Chapter 7
Beka rubbed her hands together in anticipation and led the way with a one million-watt smile. At the bottom of the Maru's exit ramp, she took a deep breath, inhaling the scents of fuel, oil and the acrid odors of toasted wiring and welding. It smelled good-for a planet. The spaceport smelled much like the inside of a starship. She could detect the wayward scent of clean flowery air as the planet tried to wash away the stale stench of the spacecrafts. But, to her, the scents associated with machinery were beautiful. They smelled like home. So, she ignored the dim sunlight filtering through the thin cloud layer overhead and waited as the others gathered their wallets, purses and whatevers then followed her onto the open landing pad.
No one greeted them. Overhead, large signs hung from metal supports indicating that all incoming persons were to proceed to Customs. A tinny voice carried on the thready breeze, issued from distant speakers. Its message repeated in every major galactic language, "Weapons are restricted to Varian Spaceport proper. No violations will be tolerated."
The crew of the Andromeda Ascendant filed off the Eureka Maru, gazing around in interest at the variety of ships parked or landing near them. Tyr pointed out the various ships like a teacher lecturing a class, naming them and giving details about the species who flew them. They passed through a security scanner and a personal pat down before they could leave the landing pad. All weapons were confiscated, including nail files and pointed objects. The locals were very thorough. Once through the indignities of a hand search, Beka bounced in place with enthusiasm.
"Come-on, Come-on," she muttered, arms crossed over her chest, tapping her forearm with one finger impatiently. One by one, her crewmates passed the checks, Tyr looking less than thrilled to be unarmed. Reluctantly, he handed over a variety of weapons, large and small. He scowled at the chunky man who took the armaments and thrust a receipt in his hand. Beka chuckled. If she knew Tyr, he still had weapons hidden on his body. Only a strip search and trained Nietzschean eye would find them all.
Rommie and Trance bounced up beside her.
"Do you see the mountains!" Trance said excitedly. "They're so high and..." She giggled. "They're the same color I am."
The other two women smiled broadly, captured by the girl's joyous excitement. Her laughter was infectious.
"So," Rommie said, turning to Beka, "where are we going first?"
The blonde's eyes widened in surprise. It hadn't occurred to her that they would pair up. She glanced around nervously then smiled in apology. "Uh, well. I kind of wanted to go off on my own. I have business to take care of. But, you and Trance can have fun together. Trance, you can show her the sights, right? Take her shopping like we've always done."
"Sure," said the purple girl, her tail twitching slowly, cat-like. "My stuff is together stuff, not alone stuff." She slipped an arm around the avatar's slim shoulders.
"Great, thanks." Beka patted her on the arm and started to walk off.
Dylan stopped her with a raised hand. He gathered the entire crew around him in a circle. "All right, everyone. Meet back at the Maru at 1200 tomorrow. That gives us nearly twenty-four hours of shore leave; plenty of time to work the kinks out. Have fun and...well...don't have TOO much fun, if you know what I mean." He smiled and strolled off, sightseeing.
Beka bounced. "Cool! This is gonna be great! Bye!"
"Good-bye," Rommie called, turning to see off the men. They had already dispersed, vanishing into the crowd and leaving the security checkpoints and the space dock behind as they entered the spaceport proper. Surprised, she turned back to Trance. "We're staying out all night?" she asked, a gust of chill mountain air carrying the perfume of fresh flowers billowing her short brunette hair around her face.
Trance giggled. "No, we can always come back to the Maru. There are plenty of bunks in the crew quarters. But, who knows," she whispered conspiratorially, "we might find an all night mall or something. Wouldn't that be great?"
The avatar's brow furrowed. "Mm, great."
Trance took her arm, pulling her toward town, as indicated by a large sign giving directions to various points all over the spaceport. "I'm looking for a necklace. Something crystalline with sparkles and---"
Rommie nodded attentively as they walked off and disappeared into the crowds.
~~
Beka prowled the edges of the restaurant bar that was supposed to have the best food and wildest brawls in the spaceport. Everyone she had stopped to ask and told her so. It had a gritty, vibrant atmosphere. Its smoky interior was very dark, lined with worn wooden paneling. The ceiling was aged, nicked and pitted by years of brawls. Some of the lights weren't working, but she didn't care. The small crowd had the feel of people who'd been there, done everything and she loved it immediately. She had purposely bypassed the friendlier town in favor of the seedy spaceport entertainment district. She wanted a man who wouldn't ask questions nor expect anything from her. Who knew, maybe she'd run into some of her old friends and thieves here. Slipping through the shadows, she surveyed the restaurant first and then the bar counter. There were several handsome men who were notably without partners.
With a sly grin, she sidled up to the bar. The bartender, a willowy redhead, stood waiting for her order before she even sat on the stool.
Beka smiled. "Cajun Sunset," she ordered.
The bartender nodded and quickly mixed the drink. She set it before the blonde and held out a six-fingered hand for payment. As she slipped the credits into the woman's hand, Beka leaned forward.
"So, which men are the losers?" she whispered conspiratorially. "Any wackos I should avoid? Any flash-heads to sidestep?"
The redhead chuckled. "I stopped counting." Wiping a glass with a towel, she nodded almost imperceptibly at a tall dark and fiercely handsome man nearby. "Psycho. Wanted for murder in several systems and thinks no one notices when he snaps and breaks up the place." She set the glass behind the bar and rested her forearms on the polished wood, leaning close. "And that one, the one with the tattoos, he talks non-stop. Drives you crazy. That one over there, with the long wavy black hair, now he's a keeper. Seems really sweet. But, I've seen him take out five men in a fight, so the jury's still out. And there--" She nodded toward the door. "--is fresh meat."
The blonde glanced over her shoulder and saw Dylan grinning in the doorway. He looked around but apparently didn't see her. "Terrific," she muttered. She couldn't even get away from him on shore leave. At the bartender's questioning look she said, "I know him. He's too nice. Kinda like dating a teddy bear."
The redhead waggled her eyebrows and slunk off to take another customer's order.
Beka turned, drink in hand, and assessed the longhaired man through lowered lashes. He had one of those timeless faces. It was impossible to judge his exact age, though he would be handsome no matter what. His face was strong, yet unassuming. His cheekbones were chiseled like the ancient Greek's. He sipped a beer slowly, savoring it, shifting to get more comfortable in his thick leather jacket. She could tell he was a fighter, perhaps a wanted man, by the way he kept watch on the room without seeming to look around. She grinned. He knew where everyone was and probably what weapons they had hidden.
He looked mild, innocuous, like he would almost blend in with any crowd harmless or dangerous. Though he wasn't looking directly at he, she gave him a coy grin and peered down into the amber liquid of her drink. She swirled it, watching the whirlpool of red liqueur swirl in ribbons up from the bottom of the glass. He saw her. She was certain of it. She licked her full lips slowly, seductively. Running one long finger along the rim of her glass, she concentrated on her hair color. It needed to be tweaked just a little for the occasion. With a thought, some of the nanobots imbedded in her hair strands changed. Subtle highlights of amber and strawberry appeared in her normally white blonde hair, making her small waves and curls sparkle like jewel as she moved. Slowly, it grew longer. A few inches ought to do. Purposely, she shook her head just enough for her hair to catch the light. She made a show of slowly pulling up the hem of her satin sky blue dress to scratch an imaginary itch on her upper calf. She smiled, thinking of how difficult it had been to smuggle the dress off the Andromeda Ascendant without explaining it to her crewmates. She didn't want to appear to be a sleaze and the dress brought out her eyes. Scratching lightly, she tried to look sexy. That should get him. She could almost feel him looking at her leg.
A moment later, she heard a rustle of leather beside her. She looked up through her lashes. He reclined against the bar, glancing at her and away with colorful hazel eyes. Strands of short dark hair escaped the gel that slicked it back to swing against his forehead.
Hook, line and sinker, she thought and hid a triumphant grin.
~~
Harper strolled quickly through the spaceport with a bounce in his step. He passed many shops with peeling paint and colorful window displays. He paused outside one, the carved and painted sign said, "Blacksheep Tavern." A loud thrumming beat rattled the stained glass windows and the pavement beneath his shoes. He squinted through the thick, colored glass. Silhouettes of creatures, humanoid and not, milled about inside. Normally, he would jump right into a place like this. Tonight, though, he had a mission to accomplish before he allowed himself to be rejected countless times by the local women. He needed something for the new phase of his project. Something unusual, something he didn't have and couldn't ask for on the Andromeda. Swallowing hard and continuing to walk, he struggled to think of a way to sneak it on board the ship.
The sun began to sink behind the craggy mountains encircling the spaceport and the town beyond it. Walking downhill, he passed various tourist shops with cheap, gaudy merchandise and restaurants with tantalizing smells drifting out. His mouth watered and stomach growled, but he kept moving.
Eventually, he came to a tall concrete wall. As he passed through the narrow opening, he noticed how unusually thick the wall was. It was thicker than it-or he--was tall. A slightly rusted, yet sturdy wrought iron gate lay flat against the opening, allowing passage through. On the other side, a burly man in a simple green uniform nodded to him, his thick graying hair flopping out from under his spongy hat.
"Better be back before ten unless you want to stay the night," the man called out in a gruff voice. "Gate's locked at ten."
"Do I need a pass or somethin'?" Harper asked.
The man shook his longhaired head. "Nope. You look like an offworlder. Don't need no pass. Just be back by ten. No one in or out. Gate's locked and the Guard is out patrollin' after ten. Don't want to be in town less'n you want to sleep in the streets durin' the nightly howler." He gave Harper a grin that made goosebumps break out on young man's arms.
Harper had no idea what a 'howler' was, but decided on the spot that it wasn't something he wanted to know about. Images of the bogeyman flashed through his mind. He'd endured a lot of nights outside in all kinds of weather as a child, but there was something spooky about this place. For a moment, he wished he'd stayed onboard the Andromeda with Rev Bem. Quiet meditation didn't sound quite so boring now.
He nodded nervously and waved in thanks to the man, though he had no idea what time it was locally. He suspected he had plenty of time and his mission shouldn't take long. Now he had motivation to hurry.
Beyond the wall, the street was paved with cobblestones, making his footfalls ring pleasantly and his boots slip until he got used to walking on the uneven stones. The buildings all seemed to have a fresh coat of paint. The sidewalks were swept and the shops seemed neater, of a higher class. He peered up at each sign as he passed the shops, glancing into the windows.
Suddenly, he stopped and smiled. There it was.
~~
"Where are we going next, Trance?" Rommie asked, an undercurrent of annoyance running through the words.
Trance didn't notice. "Food. It's time for food. I'm so hungry and all of these smells, roasting meat and stuff, have me starving."
Rommie lifted her bag-laden arms. "I'm not surprised. We've visited most of the shops in the city." She glanced around. "We should dine in the spaceport. It's approaching 10:00 p.m. local time and the gate guard said we wouldn't want to be locked into this part of town. The locals, friendly as the shopkeepers may be, roll up the streets at ten. There isn't a hotel within twenty kilometers. There's this 'howler' that I suspect is a strong weather system. And the bad element...." she allowed the words to trail off suggestively.
Trance glanced over her shoulder nervously, and then peered at the red and orange streaked purple sky. "Well, it has gotten awfully dark, the wind is rising and we're a long way from the gate. You're right. We should go."
The avatar nodded then cocked her head at the plum girl. She looked humanoid and very fragile, but Rommie's long-term observations of her suggested she had a strength that she kept hidden. She noticed Trance shiver and rub her upper arms. "Are you afraid?" she asked as they strode back toward the main avenue that led uphill to the gate.
"Afraid?" Trance giggled softly. She glanced at the avatar from the corner of her eye. Her dark eyes twinkled as though she found the thought incredibly funny.
"Yes, of the dark?"
The other woman smiled. "The dark, no. What's in the dark or coming after you in the dark, yes. Sometimes."
"Why do you assume something is coming after you...us?"
Trance shrugged. "There usually is. The universe is a chaotic and dark, dangerous place. You have to keep your eyes open, Rommie. I know you're still not really good at this humanoid body type stuff. And I know you have enhanced robotic strength and stuff, but you still have to be careful. I always assume someone is out there looking for me so I'm prepared."
Rommie considered in silence. The young woman had a point. She, too, had seen many unusual things in her lifetime as a warship: war, hurt, betrayal, death, and murder. Still, to give into pessimism led to fear. She couldn't fear the dark or the secrets it kept. She was a warship. Proud. Fearless. Strong. So, why did her heart race as the wind howled through the skeletal trees standing sentry over the cobblestone streets? Why did she now jump at shadows dancing in the twilight as the streetlamps ignited to paint dim yellow circles on the narrow sidewalks? Abruptly, she shook her head hard to rid herself of such ridiculous thoughts. She was the Andromeda Ascendant. She had nothing to fear.
They passed a brightly lit shoe shop. The smell of leather and shoe polish wafted out through the open door. Overhead, night birds swooped and called. In the distance a loud creature snarled. Suddenly, the engines of a ship taking off from the spaceport roared, drowning out all other sound. Abruptly, the engine cut off. A bright spark of after burner streaked across the sky and vanished amongst the emerging stars. Ears ringing slightly, they watched it disappear.
The sudden silence seemed at once refreshing and vaguely disquieting. Neither could put her finger on the source of their unease. Rommie attributed it to Trance's suggestion that they would be followed coupled with the guard's admonishment that the locals didn't want many off-worlders in their town after curfew and his eloquent tale of the frightening 'howler'. Off-worlders should stay in the spaceport, he said. She found herself focusing on passing sounds, listening for following footsteps. Unconsciously, both women increased their pace.
~~
By the time Harper left the shop, the last vestiges of color were quickly fading from the night sky. Weather-beaten cast iron streetlamps spit out faint circles of light, as if breathing their dying breaths. Clouds had started to obliterate the stars for what the spaceport introduction briefing called the 'nightly deluge.' He gave the dark clouds a smirk. He could deal with rain. He liked rain. He loved the smell and the feel of it. He didn't want his new purchase to get soaked and ruined, particularly after it took so long to get it just right. The rising breeze gusted heavy with the scent of rain. He shivered. It reminded him of home.
Tugging the collar of his light jacket higher up his neck, he turned toward the spaceport, lights shining like a white beacon atop the hill. It seemed so far away. With no idea what the local time was, he started toward the lights at a brisk pace.
The wind quickly began to rise. It howled through distant rock formations as it was forced down narrow cracks in the mountains. The smell of imminent rain drowned out the scents of cooking food. He shivered as the temperature dropped noticeably. Maybe this was why the joker at the gate told him to hurry back.
He increased his pace. A noise behind him caught his attention. He whirled, staring into the darkest shadows. The streets were lit with dim street lamps. Shadows reached like clawing beasts. He swallowed hard, remembering childhood attacks. Furry, clawed Magog leaped from the darkness, clawing his family and friends to bits. Suddenly nauseous, he decided he'd run like Hell for the gate. He turned and ran straight into a wiry form.
He jumped back and stammered an apology, "Oh, sorry dude. I didn't see you. Too dark out here, ya know." He smiled at the towering man.
"Yes, I know." A venomous smile split his feral face. His long stringy hair whipped out about his narrow face like a black halo.
"Uh, oh," Harper muttered. "Look, I was just headin' back to the spaceport, the huge, populated, well-lit spaceport. So, I ain't looking for trouble."
The man shifted from foot to foot slowly, gracefully. "I am," he whispered.
A feeling like icy water gushed down from the top of Harper's head to the tips of his toes. His body felt numb as it dropped into an ancient, defensive state. He was no stranger to fights for survival. He shoved his bag inside his shirt. "What do you want, ferret face? My bag? Think again. I came too far for this and I ain't giving it to a weasely big-nosed loser like you."
The man smiled, his nearly colorless eyes narrowed and amused. He assessed the diminutive human with a slow glance. He chuckled. Just then, someone hit Harper from behind. He staggered forward. The tall man shoved him back. From the corner of his eye Harper saw the attacker behind him hefting a short pipe. Harper spun, grabbed the pipe and wrenched it from the person's hands. He swung it, catching the second attacker in the face. The person fell and didn't stand.
The tall man kicked him in the shin. Pain knifed through his entire leg. He stumbled, swayed and swung the pipe. He heard the other man grunt in pain as the pipe broke a rib. Harper smiled, blood running down his face from a cut on his forehead. Anger, red and feral welled up inside him. He hissed in rage and rushed the man. The wiry man fell back onto the cobblestones. They rolled over twice, warring for dominance. The contents of Harper's pockets flew through the air. Harper fought like a wild beast, using every weapon nature gave him. He punched, scratched, bit, and finally head-butted the man. The man scurried away into the dark.
The second attacker tried to scuttle away on hands and knees. In a rage, he reached out, grabbed a handful of the person's cloak and dragged them back. He didn't notice as chill rain began to fall on them, washing the blood away from his wounds. He punched the smaller person in the face several times. Suddenly, the hood fell back to reveal the face of a young woman, bleeding where the pipe had lain open her cheek. She whimpered, barely conscious. He faltered in his attack. Reason overwhelmed rage. He threw the woman away from him and sat up as the she slid down the rain slick street.
"Take that you bastard!" he shouted, shaking a fist at the woman.
He didn't see the wiry man standing behind him. With a snarl and gritted teeth, the man raised the pipe and hit him in the head. Harper slumped to the ground, unconscious.
TBC
Beka rubbed her hands together in anticipation and led the way with a one million-watt smile. At the bottom of the Maru's exit ramp, she took a deep breath, inhaling the scents of fuel, oil and the acrid odors of toasted wiring and welding. It smelled good-for a planet. The spaceport smelled much like the inside of a starship. She could detect the wayward scent of clean flowery air as the planet tried to wash away the stale stench of the spacecrafts. But, to her, the scents associated with machinery were beautiful. They smelled like home. So, she ignored the dim sunlight filtering through the thin cloud layer overhead and waited as the others gathered their wallets, purses and whatevers then followed her onto the open landing pad.
No one greeted them. Overhead, large signs hung from metal supports indicating that all incoming persons were to proceed to Customs. A tinny voice carried on the thready breeze, issued from distant speakers. Its message repeated in every major galactic language, "Weapons are restricted to Varian Spaceport proper. No violations will be tolerated."
The crew of the Andromeda Ascendant filed off the Eureka Maru, gazing around in interest at the variety of ships parked or landing near them. Tyr pointed out the various ships like a teacher lecturing a class, naming them and giving details about the species who flew them. They passed through a security scanner and a personal pat down before they could leave the landing pad. All weapons were confiscated, including nail files and pointed objects. The locals were very thorough. Once through the indignities of a hand search, Beka bounced in place with enthusiasm.
"Come-on, Come-on," she muttered, arms crossed over her chest, tapping her forearm with one finger impatiently. One by one, her crewmates passed the checks, Tyr looking less than thrilled to be unarmed. Reluctantly, he handed over a variety of weapons, large and small. He scowled at the chunky man who took the armaments and thrust a receipt in his hand. Beka chuckled. If she knew Tyr, he still had weapons hidden on his body. Only a strip search and trained Nietzschean eye would find them all.
Rommie and Trance bounced up beside her.
"Do you see the mountains!" Trance said excitedly. "They're so high and..." She giggled. "They're the same color I am."
The other two women smiled broadly, captured by the girl's joyous excitement. Her laughter was infectious.
"So," Rommie said, turning to Beka, "where are we going first?"
The blonde's eyes widened in surprise. It hadn't occurred to her that they would pair up. She glanced around nervously then smiled in apology. "Uh, well. I kind of wanted to go off on my own. I have business to take care of. But, you and Trance can have fun together. Trance, you can show her the sights, right? Take her shopping like we've always done."
"Sure," said the purple girl, her tail twitching slowly, cat-like. "My stuff is together stuff, not alone stuff." She slipped an arm around the avatar's slim shoulders.
"Great, thanks." Beka patted her on the arm and started to walk off.
Dylan stopped her with a raised hand. He gathered the entire crew around him in a circle. "All right, everyone. Meet back at the Maru at 1200 tomorrow. That gives us nearly twenty-four hours of shore leave; plenty of time to work the kinks out. Have fun and...well...don't have TOO much fun, if you know what I mean." He smiled and strolled off, sightseeing.
Beka bounced. "Cool! This is gonna be great! Bye!"
"Good-bye," Rommie called, turning to see off the men. They had already dispersed, vanishing into the crowd and leaving the security checkpoints and the space dock behind as they entered the spaceport proper. Surprised, she turned back to Trance. "We're staying out all night?" she asked, a gust of chill mountain air carrying the perfume of fresh flowers billowing her short brunette hair around her face.
Trance giggled. "No, we can always come back to the Maru. There are plenty of bunks in the crew quarters. But, who knows," she whispered conspiratorially, "we might find an all night mall or something. Wouldn't that be great?"
The avatar's brow furrowed. "Mm, great."
Trance took her arm, pulling her toward town, as indicated by a large sign giving directions to various points all over the spaceport. "I'm looking for a necklace. Something crystalline with sparkles and---"
Rommie nodded attentively as they walked off and disappeared into the crowds.
~~
Beka prowled the edges of the restaurant bar that was supposed to have the best food and wildest brawls in the spaceport. Everyone she had stopped to ask and told her so. It had a gritty, vibrant atmosphere. Its smoky interior was very dark, lined with worn wooden paneling. The ceiling was aged, nicked and pitted by years of brawls. Some of the lights weren't working, but she didn't care. The small crowd had the feel of people who'd been there, done everything and she loved it immediately. She had purposely bypassed the friendlier town in favor of the seedy spaceport entertainment district. She wanted a man who wouldn't ask questions nor expect anything from her. Who knew, maybe she'd run into some of her old friends and thieves here. Slipping through the shadows, she surveyed the restaurant first and then the bar counter. There were several handsome men who were notably without partners.
With a sly grin, she sidled up to the bar. The bartender, a willowy redhead, stood waiting for her order before she even sat on the stool.
Beka smiled. "Cajun Sunset," she ordered.
The bartender nodded and quickly mixed the drink. She set it before the blonde and held out a six-fingered hand for payment. As she slipped the credits into the woman's hand, Beka leaned forward.
"So, which men are the losers?" she whispered conspiratorially. "Any wackos I should avoid? Any flash-heads to sidestep?"
The redhead chuckled. "I stopped counting." Wiping a glass with a towel, she nodded almost imperceptibly at a tall dark and fiercely handsome man nearby. "Psycho. Wanted for murder in several systems and thinks no one notices when he snaps and breaks up the place." She set the glass behind the bar and rested her forearms on the polished wood, leaning close. "And that one, the one with the tattoos, he talks non-stop. Drives you crazy. That one over there, with the long wavy black hair, now he's a keeper. Seems really sweet. But, I've seen him take out five men in a fight, so the jury's still out. And there--" She nodded toward the door. "--is fresh meat."
The blonde glanced over her shoulder and saw Dylan grinning in the doorway. He looked around but apparently didn't see her. "Terrific," she muttered. She couldn't even get away from him on shore leave. At the bartender's questioning look she said, "I know him. He's too nice. Kinda like dating a teddy bear."
The redhead waggled her eyebrows and slunk off to take another customer's order.
Beka turned, drink in hand, and assessed the longhaired man through lowered lashes. He had one of those timeless faces. It was impossible to judge his exact age, though he would be handsome no matter what. His face was strong, yet unassuming. His cheekbones were chiseled like the ancient Greek's. He sipped a beer slowly, savoring it, shifting to get more comfortable in his thick leather jacket. She could tell he was a fighter, perhaps a wanted man, by the way he kept watch on the room without seeming to look around. She grinned. He knew where everyone was and probably what weapons they had hidden.
He looked mild, innocuous, like he would almost blend in with any crowd harmless or dangerous. Though he wasn't looking directly at he, she gave him a coy grin and peered down into the amber liquid of her drink. She swirled it, watching the whirlpool of red liqueur swirl in ribbons up from the bottom of the glass. He saw her. She was certain of it. She licked her full lips slowly, seductively. Running one long finger along the rim of her glass, she concentrated on her hair color. It needed to be tweaked just a little for the occasion. With a thought, some of the nanobots imbedded in her hair strands changed. Subtle highlights of amber and strawberry appeared in her normally white blonde hair, making her small waves and curls sparkle like jewel as she moved. Slowly, it grew longer. A few inches ought to do. Purposely, she shook her head just enough for her hair to catch the light. She made a show of slowly pulling up the hem of her satin sky blue dress to scratch an imaginary itch on her upper calf. She smiled, thinking of how difficult it had been to smuggle the dress off the Andromeda Ascendant without explaining it to her crewmates. She didn't want to appear to be a sleaze and the dress brought out her eyes. Scratching lightly, she tried to look sexy. That should get him. She could almost feel him looking at her leg.
A moment later, she heard a rustle of leather beside her. She looked up through her lashes. He reclined against the bar, glancing at her and away with colorful hazel eyes. Strands of short dark hair escaped the gel that slicked it back to swing against his forehead.
Hook, line and sinker, she thought and hid a triumphant grin.
~~
Harper strolled quickly through the spaceport with a bounce in his step. He passed many shops with peeling paint and colorful window displays. He paused outside one, the carved and painted sign said, "Blacksheep Tavern." A loud thrumming beat rattled the stained glass windows and the pavement beneath his shoes. He squinted through the thick, colored glass. Silhouettes of creatures, humanoid and not, milled about inside. Normally, he would jump right into a place like this. Tonight, though, he had a mission to accomplish before he allowed himself to be rejected countless times by the local women. He needed something for the new phase of his project. Something unusual, something he didn't have and couldn't ask for on the Andromeda. Swallowing hard and continuing to walk, he struggled to think of a way to sneak it on board the ship.
The sun began to sink behind the craggy mountains encircling the spaceport and the town beyond it. Walking downhill, he passed various tourist shops with cheap, gaudy merchandise and restaurants with tantalizing smells drifting out. His mouth watered and stomach growled, but he kept moving.
Eventually, he came to a tall concrete wall. As he passed through the narrow opening, he noticed how unusually thick the wall was. It was thicker than it-or he--was tall. A slightly rusted, yet sturdy wrought iron gate lay flat against the opening, allowing passage through. On the other side, a burly man in a simple green uniform nodded to him, his thick graying hair flopping out from under his spongy hat.
"Better be back before ten unless you want to stay the night," the man called out in a gruff voice. "Gate's locked at ten."
"Do I need a pass or somethin'?" Harper asked.
The man shook his longhaired head. "Nope. You look like an offworlder. Don't need no pass. Just be back by ten. No one in or out. Gate's locked and the Guard is out patrollin' after ten. Don't want to be in town less'n you want to sleep in the streets durin' the nightly howler." He gave Harper a grin that made goosebumps break out on young man's arms.
Harper had no idea what a 'howler' was, but decided on the spot that it wasn't something he wanted to know about. Images of the bogeyman flashed through his mind. He'd endured a lot of nights outside in all kinds of weather as a child, but there was something spooky about this place. For a moment, he wished he'd stayed onboard the Andromeda with Rev Bem. Quiet meditation didn't sound quite so boring now.
He nodded nervously and waved in thanks to the man, though he had no idea what time it was locally. He suspected he had plenty of time and his mission shouldn't take long. Now he had motivation to hurry.
Beyond the wall, the street was paved with cobblestones, making his footfalls ring pleasantly and his boots slip until he got used to walking on the uneven stones. The buildings all seemed to have a fresh coat of paint. The sidewalks were swept and the shops seemed neater, of a higher class. He peered up at each sign as he passed the shops, glancing into the windows.
Suddenly, he stopped and smiled. There it was.
~~
"Where are we going next, Trance?" Rommie asked, an undercurrent of annoyance running through the words.
Trance didn't notice. "Food. It's time for food. I'm so hungry and all of these smells, roasting meat and stuff, have me starving."
Rommie lifted her bag-laden arms. "I'm not surprised. We've visited most of the shops in the city." She glanced around. "We should dine in the spaceport. It's approaching 10:00 p.m. local time and the gate guard said we wouldn't want to be locked into this part of town. The locals, friendly as the shopkeepers may be, roll up the streets at ten. There isn't a hotel within twenty kilometers. There's this 'howler' that I suspect is a strong weather system. And the bad element...." she allowed the words to trail off suggestively.
Trance glanced over her shoulder nervously, and then peered at the red and orange streaked purple sky. "Well, it has gotten awfully dark, the wind is rising and we're a long way from the gate. You're right. We should go."
The avatar nodded then cocked her head at the plum girl. She looked humanoid and very fragile, but Rommie's long-term observations of her suggested she had a strength that she kept hidden. She noticed Trance shiver and rub her upper arms. "Are you afraid?" she asked as they strode back toward the main avenue that led uphill to the gate.
"Afraid?" Trance giggled softly. She glanced at the avatar from the corner of her eye. Her dark eyes twinkled as though she found the thought incredibly funny.
"Yes, of the dark?"
The other woman smiled. "The dark, no. What's in the dark or coming after you in the dark, yes. Sometimes."
"Why do you assume something is coming after you...us?"
Trance shrugged. "There usually is. The universe is a chaotic and dark, dangerous place. You have to keep your eyes open, Rommie. I know you're still not really good at this humanoid body type stuff. And I know you have enhanced robotic strength and stuff, but you still have to be careful. I always assume someone is out there looking for me so I'm prepared."
Rommie considered in silence. The young woman had a point. She, too, had seen many unusual things in her lifetime as a warship: war, hurt, betrayal, death, and murder. Still, to give into pessimism led to fear. She couldn't fear the dark or the secrets it kept. She was a warship. Proud. Fearless. Strong. So, why did her heart race as the wind howled through the skeletal trees standing sentry over the cobblestone streets? Why did she now jump at shadows dancing in the twilight as the streetlamps ignited to paint dim yellow circles on the narrow sidewalks? Abruptly, she shook her head hard to rid herself of such ridiculous thoughts. She was the Andromeda Ascendant. She had nothing to fear.
They passed a brightly lit shoe shop. The smell of leather and shoe polish wafted out through the open door. Overhead, night birds swooped and called. In the distance a loud creature snarled. Suddenly, the engines of a ship taking off from the spaceport roared, drowning out all other sound. Abruptly, the engine cut off. A bright spark of after burner streaked across the sky and vanished amongst the emerging stars. Ears ringing slightly, they watched it disappear.
The sudden silence seemed at once refreshing and vaguely disquieting. Neither could put her finger on the source of their unease. Rommie attributed it to Trance's suggestion that they would be followed coupled with the guard's admonishment that the locals didn't want many off-worlders in their town after curfew and his eloquent tale of the frightening 'howler'. Off-worlders should stay in the spaceport, he said. She found herself focusing on passing sounds, listening for following footsteps. Unconsciously, both women increased their pace.
~~
By the time Harper left the shop, the last vestiges of color were quickly fading from the night sky. Weather-beaten cast iron streetlamps spit out faint circles of light, as if breathing their dying breaths. Clouds had started to obliterate the stars for what the spaceport introduction briefing called the 'nightly deluge.' He gave the dark clouds a smirk. He could deal with rain. He liked rain. He loved the smell and the feel of it. He didn't want his new purchase to get soaked and ruined, particularly after it took so long to get it just right. The rising breeze gusted heavy with the scent of rain. He shivered. It reminded him of home.
Tugging the collar of his light jacket higher up his neck, he turned toward the spaceport, lights shining like a white beacon atop the hill. It seemed so far away. With no idea what the local time was, he started toward the lights at a brisk pace.
The wind quickly began to rise. It howled through distant rock formations as it was forced down narrow cracks in the mountains. The smell of imminent rain drowned out the scents of cooking food. He shivered as the temperature dropped noticeably. Maybe this was why the joker at the gate told him to hurry back.
He increased his pace. A noise behind him caught his attention. He whirled, staring into the darkest shadows. The streets were lit with dim street lamps. Shadows reached like clawing beasts. He swallowed hard, remembering childhood attacks. Furry, clawed Magog leaped from the darkness, clawing his family and friends to bits. Suddenly nauseous, he decided he'd run like Hell for the gate. He turned and ran straight into a wiry form.
He jumped back and stammered an apology, "Oh, sorry dude. I didn't see you. Too dark out here, ya know." He smiled at the towering man.
"Yes, I know." A venomous smile split his feral face. His long stringy hair whipped out about his narrow face like a black halo.
"Uh, oh," Harper muttered. "Look, I was just headin' back to the spaceport, the huge, populated, well-lit spaceport. So, I ain't looking for trouble."
The man shifted from foot to foot slowly, gracefully. "I am," he whispered.
A feeling like icy water gushed down from the top of Harper's head to the tips of his toes. His body felt numb as it dropped into an ancient, defensive state. He was no stranger to fights for survival. He shoved his bag inside his shirt. "What do you want, ferret face? My bag? Think again. I came too far for this and I ain't giving it to a weasely big-nosed loser like you."
The man smiled, his nearly colorless eyes narrowed and amused. He assessed the diminutive human with a slow glance. He chuckled. Just then, someone hit Harper from behind. He staggered forward. The tall man shoved him back. From the corner of his eye Harper saw the attacker behind him hefting a short pipe. Harper spun, grabbed the pipe and wrenched it from the person's hands. He swung it, catching the second attacker in the face. The person fell and didn't stand.
The tall man kicked him in the shin. Pain knifed through his entire leg. He stumbled, swayed and swung the pipe. He heard the other man grunt in pain as the pipe broke a rib. Harper smiled, blood running down his face from a cut on his forehead. Anger, red and feral welled up inside him. He hissed in rage and rushed the man. The wiry man fell back onto the cobblestones. They rolled over twice, warring for dominance. The contents of Harper's pockets flew through the air. Harper fought like a wild beast, using every weapon nature gave him. He punched, scratched, bit, and finally head-butted the man. The man scurried away into the dark.
The second attacker tried to scuttle away on hands and knees. In a rage, he reached out, grabbed a handful of the person's cloak and dragged them back. He didn't notice as chill rain began to fall on them, washing the blood away from his wounds. He punched the smaller person in the face several times. Suddenly, the hood fell back to reveal the face of a young woman, bleeding where the pipe had lain open her cheek. She whimpered, barely conscious. He faltered in his attack. Reason overwhelmed rage. He threw the woman away from him and sat up as the she slid down the rain slick street.
"Take that you bastard!" he shouted, shaking a fist at the woman.
He didn't see the wiry man standing behind him. With a snarl and gritted teeth, the man raised the pipe and hit him in the head. Harper slumped to the ground, unconscious.
TBC