Chapter 10

"The best way of keeping a secret is to pretend there isn't one."

Margaret Atwood, The Blind Assassin

It lay beside her. Waiting. Waiting for her to fall asleep. As slumber finally takes her, It moved her arm aside and crept out of the bed. It went down the stairs, in the direction of the hotel's bar. Morning was approaching. It would have to settle for an adult, as there are no children out at this hour. A few more were now present at the hotel. Sure, It could creep into a room and take one. But the effort to do so would be somewhat time-consuming and It needed to return to the room. It had gained her trust somewhat, but Its absence upon waking might garner her suspicion. As the missing child had yet to be found, and as It knows, never will be. It had influenced the Dobsons, which took significant energy. Nobody noticed the absence of the two women It had killed, as they were human and are without any family or friends on this world. And the natives don't seem to concern themselves with their departure. As far as they know, the women could have checked out. The boy had been a delicacy, but with the influx of tourists, no doubt even more children.

It must garner more strength. It had been distracted. Too distracted to focus on Its task, which is to feed. But now Its hunger must be satiated.

It sees at the bar, a young human woman standing alone. The scent of her desperation was strong. This would be easy.

Its favored form was the clown, but here It had to have a new strategy. Robert Gray, antiques salesman, will have to suffice. It had taken the name from a man decades before; a performer in the circus.

Esther stood at the bar, her hazel eyes inspecting the bottom of her bare shot glass. She should stop now, after all she'd had enough. But hey, she's just made the deal of her career and wanted to celebrate. She decided to order just one more.

As she did a man with auburn hair and wearing a silver suit came to stand at the bar, a few feet away from her. They acknowledge each other with a subtle nod. The two continue to exchange glances before Esther slides her barstool closer along the black speckled marble counter.

"Hey," she smiles. "Uh…so you wanna drink? Bet I know what you want."

The man raises his eyebrows.

"I do. Trust me," Esther snaps her fingers at the gruff-looking bartender. "Two Rigas. Over here."

"So, you here on business or pleasure?" Esther inquires as the bartender sits their cocktails down. "Thank you my good sir." she gives him an appreciative smile, pulling on the hem of her short white cocktail dress.

"Business," the man replies, lifting his own glass. "And a little pleasure."

"Are you here alone, then?" Esther tries not to sound too eager. The man just nods slowly, smirking.

"So, what's your name?"

"Robert."

"Robert. Nice to meet you. I'm Esther. You know, like in the Bible," she sticks her hand out, wondering if they should be on a first-name only basis. "I notice the natives here don't do handshakes. Strange, huh?"

Robert accepts the gesture."Not really. They are a different people. Unique from humans."

Esther gives a small laugh. "Yeah, I guess so. But, you know, I'd read this book by some Frenchman, Jacques Champlain and they didn't come across too well. Pretty violent. And more than a little arrogant if you ask me. Not to mention all the imperialism. I mean..." she tucks a thick ringlet of hair behind her ear as she moves in to whisper. "These guys seem like assholes to be honest. I was a little reluctant to come here."

She steals at peek at the Thycenian bartender, apprehensive as to whether he'd heard. Those big ears mean excellent hearing.

"That particular book was a misrepresentation." Robert offers tersely, the crescents of his fingernails rapping his glass.

"Well, I haven't read enough about them to know, I suppose," Esther replies, not sure how to respond to the man's shift in attitude. "You know the booze on this planet is pretty top-notch. I didn't think it would be. Been kinda drinking my meals."

She laughs, pausing a moment to give a suggestive bite of her lip as she extends a hand over, placing it over Robert's crotch. Sitting her glass atop the sleek steel-edged counter, she traces her soft fingertips up the flesh of his hand. "Wanna get out of here?" she whispers.

Robert wordlessly digs in his pocket, throwing a wad of crumpled-up bills on the counter.

"Keep the change."

Taking her by the hand, he heads towards the exit. The bartender observes them as they leave, repulsion altering the scar burned across his face, muttering to himself. "This place is just a mating ground for outworlders."

Outside, Robert releases her hand and makes his way around the building, back towards the hill leading to the grotto.

"Hey wait up!" Disappointment evident in Esther's tone as she watches him walk farther down the side of the building.

She runs to catch up, almost knocking into him when she rounds the corner.

"Are you wanting to skinny dip? It's kinda cold for that isn't it? The rain could start up again. Hey, say something."

She's a little breathless, the small jog only emphasized how out of shape she was. Their faces are inches apart now as Esther reaches up to roughly shove Robert against a tree. "Let's just..."

She grips Robert's face, kissing him. To her surprise, the man's lips didn't feel like they looked. He had a full, soft-looking mouth. Now they seemed to feel smaller, and a little wrinkly. She pulled back enough to focus on his face, still close enough that their breaths interlaced. She blinks her eyes open.

Her mother was looking at her.

Her dead mother.

Esther staggered back, her heart pounding, feeling like it could burst out of her chest. "Mother," she mutters under the duress of her heavy breathing. "Mother." She stumbled, her arms flailing behind to find some sort of support as her knees gave out. She collapses to the ground, unable to even speak.

"Essie, Essie, my baby look what you did to me," the older woman holds out her hands. "Look what you did. I taught you acting this way was a sin. A sin!" Her voice begins to grow deeper, raspier, malignant. Her eyes are lighting up a golden-yellow, like two tiny orbs in the dark. "You killed me! You killed your motherrrrr!"

As she leaps on the stunned young woman, her form begins to stretch, becoming more elongated, face paler, bright orange spreading through her gray hair. The last sight Esther ever sees is a pair of long, needle-like teeth coming at her.


Morning was leaking in through the windows as It crawled back into the bed. It had taken longer than intended, but Its powers were now becoming more stronger. It was able to influence the bartender and the patrons that had seen It and the woman leave. It slid under the blankets, draping Its arm over her. It took a moment to observe her sleeping. Tracing Its fingers along her features, her nose, the small hoop gauged through her left nostril, her mouth, studying the tattoo that started at the bottom lip and trailed along her chin and down her neck. A similar smaller pattern on her cheekbones. It then ran Its palm along the cold metal of her prosthetic. Having to wear such a device must cause discomfort. It could only imagine; as It could simply grow out a new limb. How unfortunate that she couldn't. Its gaze moved back to her face. Her eyes are beautiful. Its a shame she must close them. Just as It finished that thought, she began to stir.

Mirasal grunted as she gripped her prosthetic. She sat up, slouching, rubbing the area next to the metal shoulder of the limb.

"What's wrong?" Robert lifts his head off the pillow.

"I fell asleep with this on." she groaned. Not that he didn't know.

He sits up, gazing at her arm, seeing his reflection in the glossy metal. "Take it off." His eyes meet hers as she tightened her grip on the false limb.

"I will. When I take a bath."

"Why not right now? You said it's hurting."

"It's not that bad, really." she insists.

He starts to run his fingers along the metal shoulder, gently pulling at it.

"What are you doing?" she pulls her arm back, cupping it with her hand.

"Just take it off."

"No."

"Why?" he inches closer, his hand encircled around the area below the shoulder.

"I will when I bathe." She places her hand over his, prying his fingers loose.

"You don't want me to see you without it," he lets the sentence hover in the air before finishing. "I know that's it. But, just don't worry." He starts to try to maneuver it off, when she gives his hand an audible slap.

"Stop it," she jerks away. "I'll take it off when I'm ready."

"I want to see." he scowls at her, which she returns before turning her back to him.

"Why? It just looks ugly." She really didn't understand why he was so adamant about this. Why would he want to see it?

He runs his hand down her back. "You trust me now, don't you?"

"It really has nothing to do with trust," she turns to face him. "It's just I don't want you seeing it. You can understand that right?" she places her hand on his face, massaging his cheekbone with her thumb. "I just rather you not."

Throwing the covers aside, she stands up. "I'm going to go take a bath."

"It's early still."

"I have to be downstairs soon."

"Why? Just take a day off. Let them handle it," he says, pausing a second. "After what happened yesterday…"

"Yes, well, I can't avoid it."

She made her way to the bathroom, the sunlight flooding in through the rectangular window just above the bathtub, the pink and white room vibrant and cheery. The shelves on either side of the tub held sponges and pastel soaps, each of a different scent and color.

She tries the light switch, relieved to see the power was back on. Turning on the water, she makes it a little cold to ease her pains. She pinned her mane up into a bun and grimaced as she removed her metal arm, sitting it on the sink with a loud 'clink.' She dipped herself into the tub, one foot at a time, the water now fast rising to the rim, sinking down until her chin was touching the surface. Closing her eyes, she sighed happily as she listened to a pair of small birds perched on a branch just outside.

The door creaks, and Robert sticks his head in. "I wanted to see if you feel better."

"I do. I'll be out soon." she gestures for him to shut the door, however he enters instead. He crouches by the tub, placing his large hands on the sides.

"Now let me see."

"No, don't…" she puts her hand to her stump. He gently moves it aside, putting his hand into the icy water, giving her a perplexed look.

"That's cold!" he grins.

"Yes. It helps with the pains," she squirms. "What are you doing though?"

"I just want to see, that's all. What, you think so little of me you think I'd be disgusted?"

"No, of course not."

"Then why?"

She couldn't give him an answer. Other than it just looks bad, but even then that wasn't the whole truth. Being without it made her vulnerable.

"I'm not going to do anything to you." He must have read her emotions.

"Well I know that. Do you honestly find it so baffling that I don't want to be seen without it on? Or that it's uncomfortable for me to have it off? Surely, you have things you aren't comfortable doing," she stretched, perching the heels of her feet on the edge of the tub. "You do, right?"

His eyebrow ridges come together, bottom lip is forming into that pout again. "Yes, I suppose I do." A stillness fills the room, as he seemingly continues to muse over her question. His eyes are frozen in place. She gives a head tilt as she studies him.

"Um, Robert?" she gives him a gentle nudge.

She continues to shake him, until his body suddenly jolts. "I'm alright. I was-"

"Overthinking maybe?" she suggests, rubbing his arm. He smiles in response, reaching into the water again, he touches her stump.

"Careful, it's still a little sore." she closes her eyes, bottom lip firmly between her teeth.

His eyes tried to meets hers. "It's not ugly…" He crooked his finger under her chin, turning her to face him when she didn't respond. "It's not."

They exchange smiles as she feels the ache drain away. "Huh, feels good now."

She extends her arm behind her to grab a pink sponge off the shelf.

"Wash my back? I have trouble with it," she holds it out, urging him to take it. "There's some soap there."

He reaches up to grab a pastel blue soap, rubbing it along the sponge, his face conveying puzzlement as he watches the suds developing. She yelps as he runs it harshly down her shoulder blades.

"Ow!" she arches her back. "Softer...but only a little."

He slows his pace. "How's that?"

"That's good." She didn't like light, feathery touches. Rougher ones were always her preference. Bringing her knees up to her chest, she folded her good arm across and rested her chin on her forearm. She shut her eyes as he continued to scrub, stopping to trace his fingers along the vertical stripe pattern down her back.

She switches on the faucet, allowing hot water to bleed into the cold, effectively warming it up. "Why don't you get in?" she noticed he wasn't actually dressed. "It's warmer now."

He smiles. "Are you sure? Doesn't look like much room in there." he brushes his fingertips along the bubbly surface.

"There's room enough, but if you don't want to." she smirks, running the soap along her shoulders.

"No, I want to." His face erupts in a grin as he steps in, sitting carefully, as if worrying he could disturb her. She starts to lather him, but pauses.

"I can use a more, um, 'masculine-smelling' soap, if you like." A male human tourist had griped about the "too feminine" smell of the soaps, so she felt the need to inquire. Robert dismisses the suggestion.

"Nah, that's fine."

"You sure? Because a guest had-"

"I told you, I'm not like the other assholes here."

"Alright, just had to ask." she smiles as she begins to lather him. He closes his eyes, a wide smile stretching across his face, positioning his jaw upwards so she can wash his neck. Making little 'mhmm' sounds as she scrubs under his chin. She giggles at his reaction, although it made her wonder if he'd honestly never bathed before.

The sounds of their giggling drown out the barely audible knocking on the room's door outside.

"Mirasal?" Tomah knocks lightly with his knuckles. "You awake?" He waits, glancing around. When it looks like no answer is forthcoming, he saunters down the hallway, down the stairs, passing Candice Swain's room. He hadn't seen her for a day or two, at least. He opens the door timidly, as if he shouldn't enter it without warning, but he was certain she wasn't there. He stands assessing the area. Clean, bed made. Throwing open the closet door, he sees a rainbow of cocktail dresses.

Something wasn't right at the Terog.


"Did chiama Swain come back? Has anyone seen her" The kitchen doors flies open and Tomah practically runs in, as the sounds of guest's voices murmuring to each other are audible in the adjoining room, coupled with the metal clanks of pots and pans.

"Who?" Teora asks as she places a stack of plates on the counter, she looks to Radaha, who shakes her head.

"Candy. Candice Swain, in room thirty-two. She's not there but her clothes are. So she didn't check out."

"She's probably with a client." Kikara replies, arranging silverware in a drawer.

"It's been about a day though. I'm worried." Tomah sends his gaze out the kitchen door window, his head darting back and forth, trying to spot a glimpse of her blonde locks.

"Over what?"

"Something could've happened to her. You know, with the kid going missing and all."

Confusion leaked into Kikara's visage before she remembered. "Oh, yes. The Dobson boy. I wouldn't worry about it. She'll turn up, they both will… I'm sure. So did you?" She pauses, holding a bundle of forks pointed at him.

"Yes," Tomah, ripping his attention away from the dining room turns to her, his palms turned up. "I think we're on our own."

"Crousa." Kikara murmured, tightening her grip on the utensils, her lips scrunched together.

Teora slams down a pot. "Wonderful. We just lost the little help we had. Grazach Kikara." she does a small sarcastic bow.

"Me?" Kikara fumes. "What the faca did I do?"

"You fought with her. You created this situation. If you had just left it alone,"

"She was putting off work to go play around with that man. That strange man who-" Kikara argues.

Teora sharply cuts her off. "You're forgetting she doesn't actually work here. She didn't have to do it. And if she wanted some time off... I mean we can't even pay someone to work at this crouhole!" she slams down another pot.

"She still promised to help out!" Kikara approaches Teora, ears back, a knife menacingly pointed at her. "You can't say you'll do something, then not do it!"

"And what do think you're going to do with that?" Teora nods at the blade, arms akimbo, her green eyes glaring. Kikara halts in her tracks, seemingly a little dumbfounded.

"Nothing. I-I wasn't going to-"

"You bet you're not," Teora folds her arms, huffing, her nose turning up. "You will have worse than a slap coming, I assure you." Her own ears are now pinned back.

"Ladies, calm down," Radaha steps in between, spreading her arms out. "This won't get us anywhere."

"I'm going to go and look for Candy." Tomah hesitates, as if in anticipation of a possible conflict, before deciding to bolt out the door.

"Just don't make any new friends!" Teora calls after him, gaze still glued to Kikara. "She clearly hates that."

"Faca idiot." Kikara's lip curls as she tosses the knife in a drawer.


Robert sits at the foot of the bed as Mirasal massages Its head with a towel. She then gets a comb and runs it through Its hair, smoothing over any stray strands.

"There," she holds up a small handheld mirror. "How's that?" It nods and smiles. She was now dressed in a red ensemble, with yellow white and black threads trimmed along the bodice and matching glove. It noted how beautiful she looked in the colors.

She then sits at the small vanity table, braiding small portions of her mane and leaving others flowing free, fastening the braids with small silver clips. Washing it had been less of a task thanks to Robert. Sharing her bath had it's perks. He was watching her, with his thumb and index finger on the bottom of his jaw. He strides over, combing his fingers through her mane. She stood up, draping her arm around his shoulders.

"I should head out now." she says quietly, smoothing over his hair again. It was still somewhat damp.

"Just stay," he pulls her closer, caressing the small of her back. "Stay here with me."

She gives him a small quick kiss on his snub nose. "Don't you have things you have to do?"

"Yes. But not until much later." he abruptly tosses her onto the bed, tickling her. She laughed and protested, trying to push him away, but her efforts were half-hearted at best. He stopped long enough to plant a kiss, she takes his round cheeks in her hands as he does.

"The rain has stopped, so let's have your lesson outside today." She could use some fresh air and the sunlight looked like it could be appearing more often throughout the day. She certainly wasn't in a hurry to face everyone.

"OK!" he grins, rolling off of her. He stays on the bed as she stands and heads over to the desk. She picks up a small, lustrous black radio. Much more sophisticated than her beat-up antique one. It was a way for her to hear any bulletins from the base as well as any news relating to her father. There were times when she dreaded turning it on, waiting for the day she would get some bad news.

"What's that?" Robert walks over to her, reaching around her arm to trace his fingertips along it's silken surface.

"It's a scanner. It keeps me in touch with the base, in case of an emergency. And I can listen to any news."

"An emergency?"

"Yes. If there is one, I have to go in." She hoped not, as now she was enjoying her vacation. That and she hadn't gotten much rest, thanks to the person standing next to her. Not that she was complaining.

"...Go in?" his eyebrow ridges wrinkle.

"On duty." She fiddles with the device's small buttons, not noticing the dour look developing on his face.

"So, if they call you, you have to leave?" he frowns, snaking his arms around her waist. "And when you say emergency, like what?"

"An attack of some sort," she replies, turning her head to face him. "Usually that's why I get called in."

"Life-threatening?" he tightens his grip on her, hands slipping to her hips.

"Yes, there's that risk," Thinking about it never helped her. She found it best not to. "It's my job." she touches his cheek, giving it a little pat. "Don't worry! It's quiet now. Now, let's get a blanket and the book from your room."

She crosses over to the closet as he reluctantly lets go her hips. Removing a dark blue quilt from the top shelf, she turns to him. "Are you hungry by any chance?"

"Nah." he shakes his head. "Not now."


Melissa 'Viola' Cartier sat in a small cafe, smoking and sipping an odd nectar. Sweet-tasting. Whatever the ingredients she'd probably not be familiar with. Just like everything else on this world. She'd tried-unsuccessfully-to ask for directions to the Hotel Terog, but the non-English speaking locals had been less than helpful. It wasn't until she'd asked a Thycenian soldier she'd met on her trip that she'd gotten the route. Since he was military, English, or Easna as the natives called it, was a must for interacting with outworlders.

She was in Galivo, the largest capital of Tarros. Soon she'd head out to the Terog, just outside the city. Candy was already there and they's last talked a week prior. Candy had been griping, business was slow, mainly due to the popularity of the Thycenian prostitutes. Many preferred them over the human escorts. For Viola, fraternizing with another species wasn't something she deigned to do, but Candy was adventurous.

She had just tried to contact her and no response. Not like her to not answer. And for her to ignore it was a bad sign.

She rose up, with her drink and cigarette still in hand, she flipped back her short chestnut locks and straightened her green dress, patterned with circles linked into each other. She walked casually out the cafe door. Standing on the walkway, she can plainly see the Terog in the distance, atop a mountainside.

Just above it, large dark storm clouds hover.