by S E Anderson
She and her entourage split, trotting across the lawn toward the giant quartz monster. He had obviously managed to make his advances known to the other alien, as they were now perched on his shoulder, leaning against his giant rock head and laughing and waving gaily.
"What on earth just happened?" I muttered.
"Not on Earth," Sekai shuddered, "but yeah. That's the Travoshella for you. You should be happy. She has never given me anywhere near that amount of face time. "
"Did I accidentally start diplomatic relations between Earth and the Alliance?"
"Don't worry about it," she replied. "I'm sure she'll have forgotten about any of this in a few hours. Hey, are you all right?"
I reached up to my face and felt wetness. Shit. "I'm fine."
"No, you're not. You're leaking!"
"It's stress," I said. It wasn't a lie. The exhaustion was seeping out of my eyes, and it took everything to keep the tears from rolling down my face. "I needed to find my friends. This is too much. This is not what I signed up for."
"Hey, hey," she said, reaching out her hand for my shoulder again. I thought the Killians were reptilian, but when she touched my skin, her hand was warm. "What's wrong? What happened?"
"I was ... I was supposed to be on a vacation," I said, wishing I had something to wipe my eyes with. "I waited two whole years for a day off Earth, and I can't even handle it. I got lost within a few hours, and now I've gotten into ... I'm not even sure what yet."
"Hey, space is like that," Sekai offered. "I went to set up a scientific survey of a small planet teeming with life. I woke up three thousand years later in a madman's torture chamber. That's the price you pay for leaving home, for wanting more than the sky you were born under. "
I said nothing. I wanted to sit down. My bare feet were getting cold now.
"Look," she said, "leaving home is always fraught with danger. It's how we get out of it and who we are when we come back that matters. I was a scientist when I left my home planet. Now, I'm an ambassador. I fight for environmental protection in my home state. I used to hate crowds, and now I speak in front of them every other day."
"You do?"
"The universe is a big, somewhat indifferent place," she continued. "Or, at least, that's what everyone tells themselves. It is better that the one universe we know be indifferent to our problems rather than knowing and deciding not to do anything in our favor, right? It'll throw things at you to knock you down. And it's not going to stop. Accept that and move on. Learn to dodge and fight back."
"I'm trying."
"Yes, you are." She smiled at me now, tightening her grip on my shoulder. "Don't give up. It's not time to give up."
"Thank you. I'm sorry. I have to do something that's not going to be pretty."
"Don't get me involved." She let out a small laugh. "Well, unless you really need me, but please don't ruin my chance with the Alliance. Not while I'm giving out free life advice."
"I won't.”
"I'll see you around, Sally Webber." She patted me on the head and removed her hand entirely. "Hopefully in nicer circumstances."
Circumstances in which I wasn't about to break into an alien palace, but anyway. "I hope so, too,"
She was the one who left, grabbing a pink bubbly on the way. I realized that I was still holding mine and hadn't touched it. I chugged it without thinking. It tasted like a peach Bellini, which was a pleasant surprise, but I remembered as I finished the glass that I didn't want more food from here. I walked over to the bushes and spat out what I could.
I turned around just in time to make eye contact with a waiter, recognizing him as the contact who would leave the kitchen door open for me. My heart clenched. It was time for the main event.
Past this point, if I was caught it was over. Hopefully they wouldn't hear my pounding heart, but this was the only way for me to get home. My one shot. There were probably better ways to get things accomplished, more legal ways, but at this point it was my last resort.
I put down the glass on one of the little tables and trotted into the shadows of the palace, away from the people and noise, around the side where nothing was happening. If the map Maakuna had given me was correct, I was heading toward the servants' entrance. When I got there, though, I couldn't see a thing.
I felt my way around. No door, just clinging ivy on the stone façade.
What was I meant to do now? I tried pulling up the map from memory, thinking back to where else I had seen a way in except the grand entrance, but no luck.
Before I had time to contemplate how to sneak through the front, the waiter brushed past me, muttering something under his breath. And just like that, he was gone, slipping into the wall like he had never been there.
Shit, this was platform 9 3/4, wasn't it?
Right. I shook myself down. Clearing all thoughts from my brain, I stepped forward and through the wall.
Instantly my world exploded with noise. I had walked into a noisy kitchen, a kitchen so large it stretched further than my eye could see. It was lit by strong industrial bulbs and smelled strongly of pineapple and onions. Rows of metal tables ran the length of the room that were covered in food from every corner of the Alliance: baskets full of blue fruit; plates laden with what looked like dried rats; glowing, crispy buckets of chicken identical to those I could find at KFC, though the buckets were made of what looked like bronze.
The wait staff fretted about, picking up the baskets and plates before rushing out of the kitchen through a slew of invisible doors. They paid no attention to me, of course, being too busy getting the food and drinks to the guests.
The food made my stomach rumble, and I slapped my belly to keep it quiet. No way was I eating anything else from here.
The foam I had nibbled on at lunch had done nothing for me, but it hadn't tried to kill me either. If I only had one little chicken leg—
No. Maybe it wasn't chicken. Maybe it was some other kind of alien thing intent on my doom. I shook the idea out of my head. No, I wasn't falling in that trap.
I snuck out of the kitchen, which was an impressive feat, seeing as how long the room was. On paper—or in hologram—it hadn't taken up so much space, but it took me at least ten minutes to slink out of there. At the end, there was a real door propped open by a crate of rectangular bottles, which I tiptoed around.
From here, I was lucky. The servants' corridors led practically everywhere in the house. I would, should, be able to get to a room adjacent to the ICP from here. I walked straight for twenty meters, found the promised staircase, walked up two flights, then stepped out onto the landing. So far, so good.
There ended my streak of good luck, though. Two of the waiters were making out in the hallway in front of me. I mean, full face sucking and everything.
Literally.
The woman's face was wrapped around her partner's, her lips stretched out like Alien's, wrapped entirely around her partner's head, pulling them into the embrace. For a second I froze, panicking, wondering if she was kissing her partner or eating them, but the partner grabbed her rear, giving it a tight squeeze, and she removed her face slightly, laughing. Underneath, her partner, covered in slobber, laughed too, issuing a small giggle as they gasped for breath, then they went right back to kissing the smaller lips on her second jaw as her first jaw returned to holding him close.
As gross as they were, I probably could have made it around them without them noticing, if it weren't for the fact that the hallway was too small to let me pass. I slunk back into the thin, winding staircase, going down one floor. Here, at least, the hallway was empty, but I would have to improvise from there. I stepped through one of the staff passageways and into the lavish home of this planet's mayor.
There was a sharp contrast between this house and the corridor. I had gone from plastic wood to stone marble, the walls infused with streaks of silver and iron in swirling patterns that seemed impossible. The room I was in was draped entirely in animal hides, some furry, some scaly, all equally unrecog
nizable. I shuddered as I slipped into the main hallway.
It was calm. Everyone was out at the party, so there was no one to stop me. I wasn't even going for jewels or anything, so the security wouldn't be tipped off. There would be no alarms for me to break. At least, none that were marked on the palace's blueprints.
After a few false starts and dead-ends, I finally reached it: the grand atrium. Large enough to fit my parents' house comfortably, the wide room boasted a large double stone staircase that crisscrossed around the walls before leading to a landing a few stories above.
The only light came through the huge windows behind me, but they were covered in banners celebrating the mayor's birthday. All that trickled in were party lights, so the place looked dark and orange, casting long shadows everywhere.
It probably looked astounding in the daylight, but the darkness made it gloomy and imposing. Maybe a little creepy, too, though you wouldn't see me admitting that I was scared of a room to anyone. Not after the day I’d had.
I started up the staircase, careful to be as quiet as I could. My feet were cold against the bare marble. There were no carpets here, only lavish paintings in the stone. The entire thing was as chilly as walking on snow.
And it was quiet, oh so quiet. Every step I made sounded soft in the large room, but, the fact was, you could hear it. If there were a fly in here, I could have heard it buzz from any point in that room. Which is why I jumped when I heard a voice.
"What are you doing in my house?"
CHAPTER NINETEEN
in Which I Am Rescued by my own geekery
Shit. I should have expected something like this to happen.
But who expects to find a six-year-old in a silk nightgown waiting for you at the top of the stairs?
She was adorable and tiny, but even so, the resemblance was uncanny. Her dark face and bright, blue eyes were just as intimidating as her mother's.
"Who are you?" she asked, her voice light yet commanding. Another sign I was talking to the daughter of the most powerful woman in the city.
I had to think fast. Nothing had prepared me for this. I was ready for guards or guests, not a child who was supposed to be in bed.
"Amy Pond," I said with as much assurance as I could muster. I walked up to meet the girl on the landing. Why her name was the first thing to come to mind, I didn't know, but it was a good thing I wasn't trying to break into Buckingham Palace with that kind of Doctor Who-inspired alibi.
"You're not one of daddy's guests, are you?" she asked. "Why are you in my house? And why are you ... barefoot?"
Of all the people to notice, it would be her. Her eyes were wide and demanding, and I knew that any second she could call the guards and have me thrown into a dark jail cell.
But she was a child. I just had to keep her occupied.
"I'd rather not say," I said dramatically, heaving a huge breath. "It's silly."
"Silly?" she said, her voice rising to a higher pitch. "Why would it be silly?"
"Well, it's an old ... Vulcan ... tradition," I replied, spewing BS with every word. "You wouldn't understand."
"Sure I would!" She stomped her foot.
"That's right," I said, spreading a cautious grin on my face. "You're a big girl. You understand everything."
"I am!" she exclaimed, though I couldn't tell if she was impressed or flattered, but her eyes were growing wider by the second.
"I still can't tell you," I said. "I'm not allowed."
"Go on. I order you to tell me. I order you!"
She stomped her foot, hard, on the marble of the landing. The sound echoed through the grand hall like an elephant stepping on a balloon.
"Fine then," I said, trying not to flinch at her terrifying voice. She was older than her years, at least in her commanding presence, but I knew that I had her. "Back on Vulcan, when we meet someone new, we walk around their homes without any shoes on to walk in the steps of their ancestors. It's all very ceremonial. I just didn't want to bother anyone with my weird customs."
She blinked at me twice and frowned. "That's stupid. Ancestors don't leave footsteps behind. They take them with them, so they can use them again in heaven."
"But if you can fly in heaven, why would you need feet?"
"So you can wear pretty shoes, silly."
She crossed her arms over her chest and grinned like she had just proved it to me with the highest, smartest logic there is.
"You're so clever. Much cleverer than I am. How did you get so smart?"
"I have fifteen tutors. I'm nowhere near as smart as a Berbabsywell monk. Father says they're the smartest, but he says I'm close. I just have to know everything. They know everything there is to know, and then some. So he says."
"Do they now?" I said, feigning interest.
She nodded excitedly. "They know when the universe started and when it's going to end, but they don't tell anyone. It's a secret."
"That's fascinating," I said, giving Amy Pond the same vocabulary as her Vulcan roots. Pretty sure there's a fan fiction out there that might be more expansive.
"Are you scared of anything, Ka Pond?" she asked, her face dropping. Her tone switched within seconds from her thrilled command to a trembling terror. "Like, really, really scared?"
"That depends." I crouched to her level. "Are you scared, um ..."
"Lana," she said, her voice lowering to a whisper. "My name is Lana. And yes ... I'm scared."
"What of?"
"The monsters."
Holy shit. Yes, of course I was scared. I had met a few monsters in my lifetime, and not just the ones on this planet. But she was a kid, and monsters suck.
I smiled as soothingly as I could. "What monsters?"
"The ones in father's office."
"You were probably having a nightmare."
"But I saw them," she snapped, stomping and sending the room rattling.
"What did they look like?"
"They were big," Lana replied. "Tall. They had sharp teeth, but they didn't see me. They don't know I saw them."
"Lana," I said, holding out my hand, "would you like for me to check with you? I’m not scared of monsters. And if you get scared, all you have to remember is that I’m not scared, so you won’t be either."
I tried to remember what my mother did when I was scared, but came up dry. No, when I was scared as a kid, it was John who came in. Every time, he brought a bottle of what I now know to be Windex, claiming the monsters were allergic to it. One day, when I asked him why, he printed out a scientific paper about why monsters and Windex don't mix, a fake paper he spent a whole day writing just to make me feel better.
I pushed the memory from my mind. I didn't want to think about John at a time like this. I was busy, and I was losing time trying to get this kid off me.
"What will you do to them?" she asked, her voice falling to the level of a whisper.
"Well, first," I improvised, "I'll use my super Vulcan scream to yell at them. Then, I'll tickle them until they promise to leave you alone forever. How does that sound?"
"Then you'll kill them?" she pushed.
"Kill them? Why would I do that?"
"My father says that anyone who's not with us is against us, and everyone against us must die." Her face was expressionless.
"Your father doesn't seem big on mercy then."
"He says mercy's for turncoats and the weak."
"I would rather like to meet your father."
"When you get rid of the monsters, I'll tell him to give you a silver medal."
"Yes, about these monsters." I gulped. "Let's go find them."
Okay, I was getting off the plan here, but keeping the girl happy was probably my ticket out of trouble if I ran into any guards. Not that explaining any of this would help my cause. So long as I kept her busy, though, she wouldn't be able to put me in any trouble.
"This way." She reached for my hand and clung to it. "Come on."
I played my part as best I could. I took her small hand in mine and follo
wed her through the palace trying to keep track of all the turns, but after a few minutes of this, I knew I’d never find my way back. This place was too confusing.
We stopped in front of a large door—made of Lithorn wood, I proudly recognized—and froze. She touched the knob then thought better of it and pulled her hand back.
"They're in there," she whispered.
I played along, lowering my voice too. "What makes you say that?"
"I can hear them. Can't you?"
I pretended to listen, cupping my free hand around the door so I could prop my ear against it. I scrunched my face in concentration. It was all for the show, but this wasn't making her feel any better. She was petrified. With a jolt, I realized why—I could hear voices, too.
I stumbled back, clutching her hand tighter. They were harsh, male voices. There was some rummaging going on in there, too. These were not her parents or any guards. These were intruders.
Like me, I guessed, but I wasn't trying to steal anything.
"Lana, we need to get you to bed."
"Why?" she asked, cocking her head sideways. "Aren't you going to kill them?"
I looked down at the little girl in her white nightgown. Her expression reminded me of when I was her age, only I had never been raised in royalty and had never been confronted with this situation before. But whatever the world, we were the same at that age—we needed someone there for us. I had needed John to deal with my night terrors, and she needed me to keep her from these men while her parents were managing diplomacy at the gala.
I held my breath. Trying to protect her would surely mean calling security and getting me in trouble. I could always lie and take her back to bed and do my own mission afterward, leaving whoever this was to finish their dirty work in silence.
"Yes," I said, "but you're going to have to hide. I don't want you to get hurt. If you go to bed now, I can kill them without having anyone know."
"I won't get hurt. I want to see you beat them up." She tightened her grip on my hand, and I realized she was much stronger than me. It felt like she was going to crush my bones.
"Please," I said, slightly too harsh. "I can't let you get hurt."