by Lea Linnett
Ellie led the way, entering a small room with a plastic floor, which had been hastily covered with a single rug that didn’t quite reach the edges. There was a single bed in one corner and a desk in the other, and a rather out-of-place door on the adjacent wall.
“This used to be a dining room,” Roia explained, looking around with a bemused expression. “It’s useless to the levekk, of course. This entire building was actually re-purposed from a human construction by Mr. Kaan’s grandmother.”
Ellie’s eyes widened. “And she kept it?”
“Oh, yes. She kept a lot of human oddities. She was apparently rather… eccentric.”
“I see…” Ellie muttered, staring around the room in awe. It was larger than the bedroom she’d shared with her sister at home, and the ceiling stretched up so high that she doubted she could reach it even by jumping.
“What’s that door?” she asked, gesturing towards the other end of the room.
“Kitchen. Leave your things here.”
Ellie did as she was told, dropping her satchel onto the bed and following the xylidian. They came out in the middle of a kitchen unit, and Ellie couldn’t hold back a gasp at the size of the room beyond.
The kitchen was cut off by a long counter, and a high roof covered it. But past that, the room opened out into a huge living area, with a massive, square archway leading out onto the balcony. Ellie spun in place, trying to take it all in. If she thought the ceiling in her room was high, it had nothing on this. The ceiling was up another level, easily twenty feet above her head, and the space over the balcony entrance was made entirely of glass, affording a clear view of the Senekkar and the domes above. Across from the kitchen, against the adjacent wall, was a set of floating stairs snaking up to a mezzanine, which curved back over the entrance to the atrium behind them in an L-shape. She could see more rooms up there, and Roia quickly ran through them as she beckoned Ellie over to the stairs.
“Spare bedrooms are through that door there,” she said, gesturing at a small door by the atrium archway. “Guest bathroom to your right, and each bedroom has one attached. Just make sure you change the bedsheets every so often to keep out dust, and the rest is common sense. Up here,” she continued, climbing the staircase, “is Mr. Kaan’s bedroom, his office, the library, and the heat room.”
“Heat room?”
Roia spoke without looking at Ellie as she stepped onto the landing. “It’s a levekk luxury. It provides an adjustable heat source that helps them increase blood flow. It helps them concentrate.
“Rules,” she stated, holding up a finger. “Mr. Kaan’s office is off-limits, unless he directs you to clean it himself. It’s down the end of the hall, round the corner. You can clean the master bedroom, but obviously only do it when he’s not here. You have free rein of the library for cleaning and leisure time. The heat room needs to be cleaned once a week, but don’t tamper with the globe. You might boil yourself.”
Ellie gulped, unsure if the xylidian was kidding or not.
“That’s basically everything,” said Roia. “You can use the kitchen as you like, but obviously try to make yourself scarce if Mr. Kaan has company. Oh, and you’ll receive your first payment of credits in advance so you can go buy anything you need. There won’t be much food here that…” the xylidian faltered, frowning at Ellie. “Suits your tastes.”
They descended back down to the lower floor. “Any questions?” Roia asked as they came to a halt in the living area. “There’s an info packet on your desk that goes over the more technical aspects like locking procedures. And your roster’s there too.”
Ellie blinked, looking around the room as she tried to process the influx of information. “Uh... I… I think I got it,” she finally managed.
The xylidian regarded her for a long moment before rasping, “You can relax for today, get acquainted with the space. Mr. Kaan won’t be back until late, especially after that fiasco earlier. Help yourself to whatever food you can find and shop tomorrow. You’ll be reimbursed for cleaning supplies.”
“Thank you. For helping so much. This is…”
Roia stared, and to Ellie’s surprise, her red eyes softened. “It’s tough. I understand. Leaving home is a large step.”
“Where are you from?”
The xylidian crossed her arms. “My home planet. CL-11. All xylidians are born there. And it’s nothing like the rest of the Constellation. The culture shock can be… intense.”
“…That makes my move seem a little less impressive,” Ellie said, and rather than laughing, the xylidian nodded.
“You’re doing fine.” Roia breathed out a sigh. “I have to go. Go talk to reception in the morning to have your wristlet calibrated.” She tilted her head at Ellie, her lips thinning. “Be careful around Mr. Kaan. This is a stressful time, and it wouldn’t do for you to… antagonize him.”
Ellie’s eyebrows tented, and it was as if someone had trickled ice water down her back. “A-antagonize him?”
Roia turned her red eyes away. “I recommend striving to be as invisible as possible,” she murmured, her xylidian voice sounding even more like grinding metal, and with that warning, she clicked out of the apartment.
Ellie watched her go, a wave of nausea washing over her as the front doors shut with a definitive thunk.
Alone now in the empty penthouse, Ellie felt like a sailboat lost at sea. Not that she’d ever been to the sea. The rooms opened up around her like the jaws of a beast, and the walls towered over her. This apartment was larger than the entirety of Augusta’s clothier’s, and it made Ellie feel even smaller than she had standing outside Kaan Tower.
She retreated to the dining room, her new home, and sat down gingerly beside her satchel. Even in here, she felt tiny. How could this place have been built by humans? The thought of her people living in anything half so opulent sent a shiver running down her spine.
It was far better suited to someone like Helik. That was the first thing she’d noticed about him when he walked into the annex—how tall he was, how imposing. He was a few inches shy of the huge levekk that her sister had brought home, but even then, he was still easily a foot taller than Ellie. And his clothes only heightened the illusion, climbing his long neck and elongating his limbs, the dark fabric contrasting against his bone-colored claws.
As terrifying an image as he cut, Ellie couldn’t help but think the style suited him. When he entered a room, all attention seemed to be sucked towards him—along with all the breath in Ellie’s lungs, she thought, biting her lip. She’d almost forgotten how to speak when he approached, and it wasn’t because of his plated head that looked hard enough to crush someone’s skull or the claws that looked sharp enough to rip through skin.
No, it was his eyes. The cat-like pupils had zeroed in on her like a predator, flaying her open, and for a few fleeting seconds, she’d almost given into her instinct to run.
Then his expression had softened, his hand outstretched. Suddenly, his claws were gently touching the back of her wrist, and the plates covering his brow dipped and turned with all the flexibility of human eyebrows. She almost felt… safe.
But still he watched her. There was something dark and calculating in the way his icy eyes bored into her, seemingly as unable to look away as she was. She’d expected judgment—she was a human intruding upon the Senekkar after all, rare and untested—but this felt different. It was as if he were sizing her up, and for a moment she wasn’t quite sure exactly what he might be sizing her up for.
Heat tinged her cheeks, and she shook her head, pulling the drawstring on her satchel open decisively. What was she thinking? He was judging whether or not she’d be able to do her job, end of story.
But then Augusta’s words came creeping back: Who knows what they really want you for?
“Stop it,” she said to herself, getting up from the bed and unpacking her satchel.
It was silly to assume the worst. Paranoid, even.
Besides, Augusta had to be wrong about them. She’d met
her sister’s levekk, she’d seen the way he looked at Lena. There was no reason Helik’s attention had to be nefarious.
It could even be… exciting.
She froze, midway through reaching for a hanger in her closet.
What was she thinking? Helik’s attention? She didn’t want Helik’s attention—that was a shortcut to losing this job, and her place in the Senekkar.
She needed to stop thinking about him. She was entering a new life, she reminded herself. Everything was shiny and new and intriguing, even Helik. But that’s where her thoughts had to stop. It didn’t matter that he’d been friendly or that he’d laughed at her joke. Or that he’d effortlessly put her nerves at ease. He lived his life in the public eye—of course he was charming.
This wasn’t about attracting attention. No, this was about bettering herself. And Augusta.
This program was going to give Ellie an entirely new chance at life, a reset on all the trials and suffering she and Lena had been through.
There were… terrifying parts. Like public speaking. Like Roia.
She glanced around.
Like this penthouse.
But she could face it all, if she steeled herself enough. In fact, if it scared her, that was even more reason to tackle it head on. Her sister had always tried to keep her safe from the world, but now was the time to go out there and face down all those new experiences, one by one.
And I’ll start, she thought, her stomach grumbling, with finding some food.
---
Helik stared down into the depths of his Pindarro Whiskey and wished he could drown himself in it.
How was he going to get through this program?
This was the turning point in his career, the campaign that decided whether he would rise to the same political heights as his mother had or fall down into obscurity, and he could already feel his delicate hold on the matter trembling. All that anxiety over whether the girl could bear his campaign on her tiny, human shoulders, and it was him that was most in danger of bringing it crashing down around them.
He was attracted to the girl.
And that was a death sentence as far as his career was concerned.
CL-32 wasn’t like the rest of the Constellation; sexual contact between levekk and sub-species was outlawed, and even platonic friendships could be regarded with suspicion under the right circumstances. The levekk were the overseers of their sub-species, and they had a responsibility to uphold a certain level of conduct around them.
That was especially so as a senator. He was a role model, a leader, just one step down from the coveted Council positions where one’s voice really mattered and respect was held more easily. But there was still some authority in his current position, and he had to remain worthy of it.
Any provable dalliance with a human would end his hopes of making it to the Council. He’d be lucky to find any work on CL-32 after that, even with his mother’s influence.
And that barely scratched the surface of whatever punishment the girl might be subjected to.
He swirled his drink in agitation, watching the deep green contents rocket around the glass, sparkling under the neon light of the dance hub. Music blared all around him where he sat at a private table, far above the rhythmic sway of the dance floor, and he let the noise wash over him, drowning out his thoughts.
But he couldn’t dislodge her. His mind kept dancing back to how her wheat-blond hair caught the light, and the way her eyes twinkled as she addressed the crowd.
He slumped down in his seat. He thought he’d beaten this. He’d worked so hard to get where he was, and stayed so focused. And earlier that day, speaking to the humans, he’d felt nothing. They’d been just like any other sub-species, and he’d been a perfect levekk overseer. His mother would have been proud.
And then the girl appeared.
He sighed deeply, rolling his head back over the lip of his chair.
“I know the conference was bad,” said a voice, “but you look like you’re about to willfully decompose.”
Helik cracked an eye open, looking past the glare of the strobe lights at the levekk female, who stood with one hip cocked. The lights of the hub glimmered across her scales, bathing her crest—a delicately ridged, comb-like thing that stretched back over her brow instead of male plating—in a rainbow of colors.
“Please don’t start on the conference, Devis.”
His best friend let out a hiss of laughter, throwing herself down into the seat adjacent to him and looking out over the balcony at the hub below. “Hey, you handled it well. Very dramatic.”
“Dramatic is not what I was going for.”
“And what an asshole—directing the question at the human to catch you off-guard.”
“Devis.”
She rolled her eyes, and her shoulders twinkled when she shrugged. “Okay, okay. But can I compliment you on your human, at least? She looked like she was born for politics.”
Helik’s brow-plate arched as he stared down at his drink. “She sure did. Might even put me out of a job.” He cringed at Devis’ laughter, his own joke hitting too close to home.
“You’ll start a trend if you’re not careful. Everyone will want their own human housemaid from Manufacturing.”
He smiled wryly. “That’s the idea.”
Devis barked out another laugh. “Oh yeah, because you’re definitely in this to help people and not to impress your mommy.”
Helik could have burned a hole through her for how hard he was glaring. It wasn’t that he was scared of being overheard—this balcony was guarded by enough security to fill a military squadron. It was that she was right, and he still had enough of a moral compass to feel guilty about it.
But Devis just grinned at him. “I think it’s a trend that should catch on. My apartment’s never been so clean,” she said, knocking back the contents of her glass. “Thanks again for delivering him early. I wasn’t sure it would work out.”
“I didn’t ‘deliver’ him, Devis,” Helik snapped, frowning. “I sent him. The humans aren’t voice-activated equipment.”
Her mouth snapped shut, and for a moment the pulse of the hub’s music was deafening. She stared at him with a pensive expression that made him squirm, until finally, she looked away.
“Sorry,” she said, quieter. “You’re right.”
Helik sipped his drink, eyes downcast. “So, you’re happy with your human?”
“Yep! Built like a kel-kor, can do all the heavy lifting. He could rearrange my living room three times a week without breaking a sweat.”
Helik’s brow-plate dipped. “Don’t work him too hard. Humans have weak constitutions.”
Devis rolled her eyes. “Please, he’ll be fine. It’s kind of like having a guard animal. He’s almost as big as you—he’ll scare anyone who even dares to break in.”
Helik blinked, privately disbelieving, but nodded his head nonetheless.
They talked on, and slowly, he allowed Devis to distract him from thoughts of the girl.
But as the night lengthened, and Devis left him, he knew he had no choice but to return home. He tried to sit still on the private transport, but his clawed feet dug into the floor, flexing uncontrollably with nerves.
The penthouse was silent when he pushed through the double doors. The lights were dimmed, and Helik let the hallway rug soften his footfalls. He paused in the kitchen, retrieving water from the faucet, but soon realized it was a mistake as his eyes drifted towards the dining room door against his will.
There was no light peeking through the crack, and no shuffling of movement beyond. The girl must be asleep. Even as he feared her bursting through, he felt the urge to see her again even more strongly, and that was dangerous.
Why was he acting this way?
She was just a human. No matter how many campaigns he ran, sub-species would never be levekk. There was no reason for him to feel guilty for not having been here to welcome her to his home.
And yet he did. His drunken heart ached over it
. She’d looked so scared before the conference, nervous about her new life—her new world. He wanted to ease that fear, and feel her wispy blond hair between his claws, and—
He stepped back from the door, shaking his head.
Even then, he couldn’t escape her. She’d only been here for an afternoon, and already he could sense the faint scent of human coursing through the apartment.
He padded across the living room towards the stairs, cursing himself. He was being ridiculous. And he was drunk. He couldn’t trust his own senses right now, but tomorrow…
Tomorrow, he would be better.
He couldn’t let anyone see his turmoil—especially the human. He would build up his walls, put on the mask, and then Senator Helik Kaan would be safe from temptation.
The program was three months. He could get through three months.
He just had to limit his time with her—for both their sakes.
4
Ellie started her first day by exploring Helik’s apartment.
She began on the lower level, raiding the laundry and kitchen in an attempt to work out just what she’d need to buy that day. When she found nothing in the kitchen cupboards other than a stash of protein bars she’d surreptitiously sampled the night before, she started to wonder whether the levekk really lived here at all. Maybe he’d simply rented an apartment for her to clean, not trusting her enough to let her into his real residence.
The guest bedrooms were dark and dusty compared to the open and breezy living room, with many dark nooks and crannies that she didn’t look forward to checking for grime every day. The gym was brighter, but the array of complicated looking machines soon drove her away, scared she would break something.
Upstairs, she padded along the hallway, curious about what Roia had called the ‘heat room’ the day before. She pushed the door open with trembling fingers, blinking against the glare. The room was dark, with no windows, but the tiled walls glistened in the light from the mezzanine, blocked only by the towering globe that sat in the middle of the room. It looked like a giant bouncy ball, but Ellie didn’t dare approach it to find out if it felt similar, Roia’s warning still fresh in her mind.