by Kit Walker
Ysal looks at Asha and gives her that slow blink. "Yes."
"You said your people don't leave home very often," Asha says. "Why did you?"
"Because my people do not leave home very often."
"Didn't take you for a contrarian."
"I wanted to meet new people," Ysal says. "I wanted to see things I had never seen before."
Asha pulls her knees up to her chest. "That's why I signed up to go into space. And look what happened."
"Despite your difficulties, your original goal has been one hundred percent fulfilled," Ysal points out.
Asha rolls her eyes. "There is such a thing as being too optimistic, you know."
"I have been informed that it is quite irritating," Ysal replies cheerfully. "May I hold the rodent?"
Episode 3: The Liar
The weirdest thing about Asha's life over the past few weeks isn't what's different. The weirdest thing is what's stayed exactly the same.
Laela emerges from the fitting room, wearing what can only be described as a fancy poncho. Considering how short and skinny she is, this creates the overall impression that Laela's head has been stuck on top of a glittery cartoon ghost. "How about this?"
Asha looks her over and, with as much diplomacy as she can muster, says, "Do you like it?"
"I hate it."
"Oh, thank god. Me, too."
Laela huffs and disappears back into the fitting room.
The shop is small, elegant, and seems to be having a slow day, which is probably the only reason why Asha, Laela, and Vaz haven't been kicked out yet. Holographic dummies in the window show off outfits that never look even half as good when worn by an actual person, but the shop's interior is almost entirely devoid of merchandise. There's just a row of fitting rooms, a couch, and a very annoyed salesperson behind the counter.
Vaz leans over and shows her a page from the catalog tablet. "Would this work?"
"Skirt's too long," Asha replies. Laela had been very specific about her requirements: no high heels, no long skirts. I have enough trouble walking as it is.
Asha flips to the next page in the catalog, spots a knee-length black skirt, and hits the button next to the listing. There's a soft whir as the shop's hidden machinery fabricates the skirt in Laela's size and delivers it to the fitting room.
"This is inhumane," Laela grouses from behind the door.
"You're the one who wanted to do this," Asha says. "Say the word and we're out of here."
"It's a hirovan wedding," Vaz adds. "You can wear your flight suit. Nobody's going to care."
The fitting room door opens a crack, and Laela glares at them. "We're going as Ysal's guests."
"Xe won't care, either," Asha says.
"But everything we do will reflect on Ysal. We owe it to xir to at least try and be respectable."
"You're the boss," Asha says. As payment for her assistance here, Laela offered to buy her a new wardrobe. Asha, who's been wearing the same three identical jumpsuits for weeks, eagerly agreed.
The door closes again. Asha tries to pass the catalog back to Vaz, realizes he's not paying attention, and nudges him with it.
He startles and blinks at her. "What?"
Vaz doesn't need to be here. He's the only member of Wayfarer's crew who actually owns formal wear. But ever since they arrived at Onorine, he's been oddly reluctant to leave the group.
"You okay?" Asha says. "You seem a little preoccupied."
Vaz squeezes his eyes shut and rubs the bridge of his nose. "It's just ... the next few days are going to be awkward. At best. At worst, it's going to be a disaster."
"What makes you say that?"
"Oh, please," Laela says. "'A telian, a dhovar, a sivari, and an alien nobody's ever heard of walk into a high society wedding.' We're the setup to a really tasteless joke."
"Yeah," Vaz says. "That."
•
Onorine prides itself on being a 'lush, pristine garden world where every fantasy — some restrictions apply — can become a reality.'
(Asha read through all the brochures. It was a long shuttle ride down from the orbital docking platform, and she got bored.)
Apparently, Onorine's authorities take the 'pristine' part of that slogan very seriously. There are only two major settlements on the surface, one for each hemisphere. The western atmosphere hub, Gala, has been carefully constructed to resemble a quaint, friendly little town, complete with tree-lined boulevards and boutique storefronts.
Asha finds it uniquely unsettling.
"We should go back and check on Wayfarer," Laela says once they're out of the shop. "That valet was giving me a weird look. I don't trust him."
Vaz rolls his eyes. "He was giving you a 'weird look' because you threatened to have him fired if he scratched the hull."
"That was completely justified." Laela points at Asha. "Besides, Asha needs to feed her pet rodent."
"Rat's on an auto-feeder for the weekend. She'll be fine." Asha checks the time on her comm. "And by the time we'd get there and back, the shuttles will have stopped running."
"Maybe I should just go back," Laela says. "Skip the wedding and keep an eye on the ship."
"Weren't you the one saying—?"
"Laela!" Ysal waves from across the street, immediately noticeable in the way only a giant bipedal lizard can be, and ambles over to join them. "Did you enjoy your shopping expedition?"
Ysal's changed xir body paint, swapping out the earth tones and geometric shapes for swirling patterns in pastel blues and purples. The paint is fresh; xe must have just had it done.
"There's a couple of stores we can never go back to," Asha says brightly. "Other than that, it went great."
Ysal turns to look at Laela. "Thank you for agreeing to attend the wedding," xe says. "It means a great deal to me."
"Wouldn't miss it," Laela mutters.
•
According to the sign at the transit station, the next shuttle should be arriving in three minutes. It's been saying that for, by Asha's count, twelve minutes.
"Ysal." Vaz fiddles nervously with the strap of his bag. "Please don't take this the wrong way, but how in all of creation did you get invited to Tia Saksata's wedding?"
"Tia and I are old friends," Ysal replies. "For a time, I was employed as her bodyguard."
"The tabloids never got any footage of Tia with a sivari bodyguard." Vaz thinks it over. "Actually, for a while there, the tabloids couldn't get any footage of Tia at all."
Ysal preens a little. "I was a very good bodyguard."
The timer on the sign abruptly drops from '3' to '0', and a shuttle descends onto the pad in front of them.
The interior of the shuttle is about what one would expect from public transit, in that it meets the basic standard for cleanliness while still seeming inherently grimy, somehow. Ysal has apparently decided to load up all the bags xirself, so Asha settles into a seat, only to discover someone has graffitied 'The Forgotten Angels was an okay book' onto the back of the seat in front of her.
Ysal finishes with the bags, and once everybody's inside, the doors chime and start to close.
"Hold up!"
An arm sticks through the rapidly closing doors, followed by the rest of a lean, wiry young man. He almost looks human, although the color of his eyes is far too vivid for that impression to last long.
The guy manages to squeeze inside just before the doors close and quickly straightens his posture, tugging on the lapels of his long, black coat. Underneath the coat, Asha catches a glimpse of bronze armor.
"Oh, fuck," Laela hisses from the seat behind her. Across the aisle, Vaz sinks down in his seat, like he's trying to hide.
"What's the problem?" Asha whispers.
"That's a Sentinel."
•
The shuttle quickly leaves Gala behind and heads up into the mountains. There are no roads out here; just trees and hills and rivers as far as the eye can see.
The Sentinel settles at the rear of the shuttle, arms spread acro
ss the back of his seat, legs stretched out and crossed. He doesn't talk to any of them, but still manages to project an air of charm and respectability. Asha can't help but sneak a few surreptitious glances in his direction; he catches her once, winks, and Asha spends the rest of the flight staring resolutely out the window.
After about an hour, the villa comes into view. It's an elegant, sprawling complex built into the side of the mountain, festooned with balconies and hanging gardens. There's even a decorative waterfall.
Asha gapes at the sight. "That's your friend's 'cozy little vacation home'?"
"Yes," Ysal replies. "And compared to her primary residence, it is an accurate description."
It isn't long before the shuttle sets down on the villa's landing pad, where a group of small, birdlike aliens is waiting for them. The woman at the front of the group is maybe four feet tall and covered in thick, glossy blue-green feathers that make it difficult to tell whether she's quite plump or just incredibly fluffy. She's also wearing easily half her weight in jewelry.
The shuttle doors open, and Ysal hops down to the ground. "Hello, Tia."
The woman rushes forward and eagerly clasps Ysal's large hands in her tiny, clawed ones. "Ysal! I'm so happy you made it."
Ysal gestures to Asha and the others as they disembark. "These are my crewmates: Laela, Vaz, and Asha."
"So lovely to meet you," Tia says. She can't really smile with a beak, but her eyes close and the feathers around her face fluff up in a way that makes her look intensely pleased. She gestures to the two males standing just behind her. "This is my First Husband, Itos. And this is my Third Husband-to-be, Hesek Ikmari."
Both of them have more drab coloring than Tia. Itos is small, thin, and consists of at least 90% elbows and knees. Hesek, meanwhile, is taller, more solidly built, and carries himself with the same confidence that Asha has seen in certain species of pigeon.
He also seems to have little regard for personal space. A disgusted look creeps across Itos' face whenever Hesek gets too close.
Ysal bobs her head to acknowledge both of them, then turns xir attention back to Tia. "Your Second Husband is not in attendance?"
"Kivo couldn't make it. Family emergency."
Asha edges closer to Laela and whispers, "Multiple husbands?"
"Hirovans are polyandrous," Laela replies quietly. "Or at least the wealthy ones are. It's a status thing. The more husbands you can support, the more impressive you are."
"Excuse me, Lady Saksata?" The Sentinel steps off the shuttle. "I'm Constable Kadar. Could I speak with you in private?"
Tia looks taken aback for a second or two, then nods. "Of course." To the rest of the crowd, she says, "Pardon me for a moment."
Kadar and Tia head off to the far end of the landing platform, conversing quietly. Asha sidles over to Vaz and gently elbows him.
"What?" Vaz says, in a tone that suggests he already knows what she's about to ask.
"Can you hear them?"
"Theoretically," Vaz says. "I'm not going to eavesdrop, Asha. It's rude."
"Oh come on." Laela crowds in on Vaz's other side. "You want to know what they're talking about as much as we do."
Vaz lets out a defeated sigh. He closes his eyes, and his head tilts slightly to the side. "... The constable says he's pursuing a fugitive. Someone called 'the Revenant.'"
"Then what's he doing here?" Asha asks.
"Ssh!" Vaz snaps. "He thinks the Revenant might be in the villa. One of the staff, maybe. He wants Tia's permission to search the premises, and access to the villa's security codes." After a moment, he adds, "She just said yes."
Tia returns to the center of the landing pad, clapping her hands together.
"Nothing to worry about," she says. "Just a routine inquiry. Please, everyone come with me. You can leave your bags here, and I'll have them moved to your rooms."
Tia leads them into the villa, while the shuttle lifts off and departs.
•
The suns sets early, disappearing behind the mountain, and that's when the party starts.
The ballroom — "Of course there's a ballroom," Laela grumbles — is packed with aliens of varying sizes and shapes: mostly hirovans and marcor, with a few outliers. Asha, being one of those outliers, heads straight for the free food and stays there.
"Vaz!" Asha holds up a bowl of what looks like tiny fried shrimp. "If I eat these, will I die?"
Vaz looks up from the other side of the table. "No, but you'll probably throw up."
"Cool." Asha puts the bowl back on the table and tugs at the hem of her skirt. It's been ages since she's worn a dress, and it's still taking some adjustment. When she looks back up, she notices Laela squeezing through the crowd.
Laela joins Asha by the buffet table. Her ears are flattened to her head, and she looks like she's about to snap like a rubber band.
"Hey." Asha offers Laela her glass of punch. "Where's Ysal?"
Laela gestures across the room, where Ysal is deep in animated conversation with Tia and her husbands. Then she grabs the glass and drains it. "How much more of this do we have to go through?"
A voice from behind them says, "Hirovan marriage celebrations traditionally last three days. The wedding ceremony itself takes place at sunset on the third day."
Asha turns, slowly, and comes face to face — figuratively speaking — with a giant fishbowl on wheels.
Inside it floats a colorful, squid-like creature with big, friendly eyes. There's a rather extensive life support apparatus attached to the base of the fishbowl, including a small speaker, which lights up as the voice adds, "Could you pass the ivis beetle larvae, please?"
Asha makes an educated guess and grabs the bowl of what probably isn't tiny fried shrimp, holding it out. A long, dexterous tentacle emerges from the top of the fishbowl, delicately selects several of the larvae, and withdraws back underwater.
"Thank you," says the squid. "I am Marellius Aurus Covax. And you are ...?"
"Asha Reed," Asha says. "This is Laela, and the guy avoiding all eye contact over there is Vaz. We're with Ysal sai-Vysri."
"Ah, the sivari," Covax says. "And to think, I was worried that I'd be the most unusual guest at the wedding."
"No danger of that," Laela says.
Vaz sidles over to their end of the table, uneasy. "That Sentinel keeps looking at me."
"What?" Asha scans the room and spots Constable Kadar leaning against the wall about ten yards away, very conspicuously not looking at them. "Okay, what is the big fucking deal? Is he a cop?"
"Kind of," Vaz says.
"Has the young lady not been educated properly?" Covax asks.
"I'm new around here," Asha says. "Give me a break."
"Ah." Covax bobs a little in his tank. "In that case, the Sentinels are the dieni exploration and peacekeeping service. They established the Protectorate and continue to expand its borders into uncharted space, as well as providing law enforcement services in cases with ambiguous or conflicting jurisdiction."
"Thanks, Professor." Laela rolls her eyes and grabs Asha's arm to get her attention. "Look, all you need to know is, avoid the Sentinels."
"Why?" Asha says. "I mean, I know your record isn't exactly spotless, and Vaz gets pretty justifiably nervous around cops, but what do I have to worry about?"
Laela shrugs. "I'm paying you under the table."
"Why the fuck are you doing that?"
"Because you're completely undocumented?"
"... Oh, right." Asha looks back in Kadar's direction. "So I guess going over there to talk to him is out of the question."
Vaz stares at her. "Why would you even want to?"
"The Sentinels are the ones who quarantined my planet, right? Maybe Constable Kadar could help fill in the blanks."
"Don't count on it," Laela says. "I mean, look at him. He's so—"
The floor shakes a little as something incredibly heavy hits the ground. Somebody screams.
Asha jumps, nearly knocking a few dishes off the table,
as the party guests surge to the other side of the room, crowding around where Ysal had been standing.
But Asha can't see Ysal anywhere.
She pushes through the crowd towards the source of the scream. When she finally breaks through to the other side, the first thing she sees is Ysal, on the floor, convulsing.
•
Considering how loudly she screamed when Ysal went down, Tia handles the next few minutes with surprising efficiency and grace.
She instructs all the guests to return to their rooms and, with Asha, Vaz, and Kadar all pitching in to help carry Ysal, leads the way to her own suite.
"It's the most secure room in the villa," Tia explains, as her bodyguards — two incredibly tall, broad marcor — move to guard the door.
Asha helps lay Ysal down on the divan and moves out of Vaz's way. The convulsions have stopped, but if Ysal isn't unconscious, then xe's very close to it.
Vaz checks Ysal's breathing, presses two fingers up under xir jaw to take a pulse, and clicks his fingers next to the sensitive audial membranes on either side of xir head.
Kadar watches Vaz carefully, with obvious suspicion. "Shouldn't we get an actual doctor in here?"
Vaz rolls his knuckles over Ysal's breastbone, frowning when there's no response. "I have degrees in medicine and xenobiology, I was born and educated on the sivari homeworld, and I'm the medical officer aboard Ysal's ship. I challenge you to find anyone in this entire building more qualified to treat this patient than I am."
Kadar at least has the decency to be embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—"
"Apologize later. I'm busy." Vaz pries one of Ysal's eyelids back to examine xir pupils.
There's a commotion at the door: someone trying to shove their way past the guards and failing miserably.
"Let me through, you fucking drones!"
"Let her in," Vaz says. "She has my medical kit."
Tia gestures to the guards, who step aside and allow Laela to stumble into the room.
"What's going on?" Laela hurries to the divan and hands Vaz's bag over. "Is Ysal okay? What's wrong?"
Vaz digs a scanner out of the bag and passes it over Ysal's body. "I think xe was poisoned," he says. "Not fatally. Too low a dose for someone of xir weight."