Ro watched her little tantrum out of the corner of his eye.
She let out a calming breath. “I’ll stop. It’s just annoying. They shouldn’t make you live like this. You’re citizens now too.”
“Thank you,” Ro said, and there was something so sincere in the intonation of his voice that made her do a double take. He wasn’t thanking her for shutting up, but for what she’d said.
She took a chance and slipped her hand into his, giving it a squeeze. His scales were warm and dry and firm, and his claws felt smooth as he squeezed her back. “No problem,” she murmured. She tossed her hair back. “Now show me this market.”
Chapter 8
The Teissian market was set up in the plaza-like quad in the middle of the circle of high-rises. It was mostly wooden frames with display tables and colourful fabric roofs, but it looked like the ground floor rooms had also been converted into shops. Maggie could smell all kinds of food cooking. The stalls were densely packed at the foot of the buildings, so much so that Maggie couldn’t immediately see her way through.
The apartment blocks were round towers in a sandstone colour, and they cast shadows over the market as Ro led her through the crowd. Most of the people around them avoided the market by entering the buildings by doors facing out rather than into the circle, but some of them headed into the crush. Ro kept hold of Maggie’s hand as it got too crowded to walk side by side. It wasn’t that there were a lot of people, but that there were so many stalls that seemed to have spawned one next to the other like a massive game of noughts and crosses rather than in any kind of logical pattern.
Maggie tried to look around and see as much as she could, anchored by Ro’s grip on her hand so that she didn’t fear getting separated. They moved slowly, and Maggie didn’t recognise anything. Not any of the food, or the items on display. She couldn’t even guess the purpose for them. She assumed they had meaning on Teiss for them to be being recreated on Earth. She noticed as well that the different races sold different things, and that they didn’t seem to shop from each other’s stalls. Evidently they had different cuisines and fashions on Teiss, and Maggie wondered what Balin styles were.
When she pointed out how many empty stalls there were, Ro told her it was because most of the stall owners had been at the dorms for over a year, and so had been heavily pressured to move off-site into private housing in the city. She understood it was to make room for the people who had arrived after the Tiberius, but she still felt a twinge of pity. Ro didn’t know what had happened to any of them, after they had been forced to leave their businesses and friends behind. Maggie hoped they were doing okay, and that they found enough customers to support a shop in the city if that was what they wanted to do.
None of the stall owners who were there called out to her, but they smiled politely if she met their eye. There were only a handful of humans in sight, but the Teissians didn’t stare at her. She supposed they would be used to seeing humans. She wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for them, even if she was holding hands with Ro. One or two called out to him as they passed, and he would reply briefly before moving on, always pulling her deeper into the network of stalls without letting her linger. She thought he seemed almost nervous. Maybe he didn’t want to be seen holding hands with her, she thought sadly. She tried to pull her hand out of his, but his grip tightened and he looked over his shoulder to check on her, so she smiled.
“I’ve never seen any of this stuff before. What is it for?” she said, reaching out to touch some carved items on the table next to her.
Ro stopped, following her gaze as if just noticing the stall goods for the first time. “These are Volon weapons,” he told her.
“Are you serious?” Now that he’d said it, it was obvious. What she had thought was maybe bulky jewellery was actually small blades on chains carved from what looked like ivory, jet, and wood. There was something metal that looked like a machete, but she had assumed it was decorative, or ceremonial, or used for cooking. She hadn’t known there was a weapons trade at the dorms and she wasn’t sure she liked the idea. She glanced at the tall merchant who smiled, but she wasn’t sure it was entirely kindly. He was dressed traditionally, with his chest bare and cuffs on his arms, and some kind of sheath hanging from a belt at his waist.
Maggie nudged Ro and they moved on. He pointed things out to her after that and explained what it was all for. She learned about Volin clothes, brightly coloured wraps with geometric patterns. Apparently they dressed themselves by just tying fabric around their bodies with no distinction between upper and lower body. There were Volin household goods as well, like boxes that played forest sounds to help them feel at home. Ro showed her the whetstones the Balin used to file down their hooked claws, and the merchant was happy to show her his unfiled hands. His claws looked savage to her, like they belonged on a velociraptor. She wouldn’t say she was happy Ro filed his down, but she was used to that now, and she didn’t know how he would be able to touch her at all if he didn’t.
Maggie’s eyes went wide when she spotted a stall that looked more like a sultan’s tent, decked out with so much gold-tasselled, fringed and threaded fabric it looked like it was on the point of collapse. It was half as big again as the stalls around it, the peaked roof standing tall over the rest of the market. Maggie couldn’t see what was actually on sale there and she wanted to go for a look, but Ro tugged her away.
“Not there,” he said.
“Why not?” she asked, following him.
“That is a Balor tent.”
Maggie had heard of the Balor before from him. He didn’t seem to like them, so she didn’t press. She didn’t get the impression that he hated them, more that he was afraid, worried. There was so much else to see at the market, she was happy to leave the Balor tent alone.
They seemed to hit a section of hot food being served, as opposed to all the food they had passed that had been packaged up to be prepared later. They had already passed more choba than Maggie thought any society could possibly need, and here it was on sale too in cups and bowls, but interestingly the majority of it wasn’t served in hot water like it was in the DETI building. Instead she saw people eating it cut into solid cubes, or drinking it as a thick sludge out of bowls, or licking chunks of it off sticks like lollipops.
“Is it not meant to be drunk hot?” Maggie wondered aloud.
Ro shrugged. “We don’t, but every human building has the facilities for coffee or tea. It is easier to use those.”
“But you would rather have it like this?”
He smiled, and she thought he was trying to think of a way not to answer. “I would rather have it than not have it,” he said diplomatically. He turned to look at her, using the full force of his smile and captivating eyes on her. “It is very good for you,” he reminded her, his voice almost a purr, and she forgot what she was worried about.
“Can I buy something?” she asked.
It occurred to her that her money might not be any good at the alien market, but Ro said “Of course. What would you like?”
Maggie looked around. She didn’t want to embarrass herself or offend him by buying something she didn’t want to finish, but the food here looked even more alien than what was offered in the DETI canteen, which she was beginning to suspect was the watered-down version. She took notice of a lone stand half the size of the others selling human treats and roses, obviously meant for Teissians wanting to buy gifts for a human. It didn’t look like it saw much custom.
Eventually, she spotted some meat skewers and figured that the meat had to be an earth animal at least. She didn’t think Teissian livestock was welcome on the transport ships.
The merchant was happy to sell her one each of the two safest-looking kebabs, and when she turned around, Ro had bought a stick of choba from somewhere and held it out to her.
“Would you like to try?” he asked.
Maggie hesitated, but she couldn’t refuse, so she steeled herself and leant forward to lick the green block that lo
oked like waxed felt, juggling her two skewers. The texture of the choba left a lot to be desired. It was initially smooth like nougat, but turned rough as if some outer coating melted under her tongue. She couldn’t say it really tasted of anything, except for faintly of carpet. It smelled quite strongly of the inside of a well. She grimaced, and Ro laughed while she quickly chased the taste away with a bite from each of her skewers which she was confident were chicken and pork.
“Are you going to finish it? I don’t have to eat the whole thing, do I?” she said, eyeing it. She had licked it, but he had seemed to expect that she wouldn’t like it, so why buy it if he didn’t mean to eat it? She wasn’t sure how Balin felt about eating things that another person - indeed another species - had licked, but he had made her do it.
Ro laughed again at her expression and took the choba back, licking the other side quite happily.
“I don’t know how you can like it that much,” she said, taking another bite of chicken. It tasted nice. It was spiced in a way she hadn’t encountered before, but it was certainly edible.
“We have different taste buds,” he said, opening his mouth to show her his tongue as if she would be able to tell by looking. His tongue was pink and pointed, and somehow it hadn’t been stained green by the choba.
“Is there anything humans eat that you find gross?”
He laughed again. “Oh, yes,” he said. He didn’t elaborate, so Maggie didn’t ask. She didn’t want to hear him say he didn’t like chocolate or pizza or something like that. Hating coffee was bad enough.
They finished their snacks as they walked. The air was growing cooler as the evening came down around them, and Ro led them to the far end of the market near the buildings. Maggie noticed it growing darker as more and more awnings were spread between the stalls, blocking out the light. The crowd got thinner too, until the only people Maggie could see were Balin. They all had dark scales with colourful patches. The stall owners were all Balin, and she felt Ro relax, slowing his step. She hadn’t noticed that he was tense until then. He looked around more, as if he was actually shopping, actually interested in what was on offer. Was it because these were his people? Things he used?
Ro pointed to a stall selling clothes and said “There,” leading them over. The merchant nodded at them in greeting, saying something in Balin Maggie didn’t understand, but she caught the word “fila” again that Kez always used around Ro. He turned to Maggie and smiled politely. “Miss,” he said. He was dark, dark red, with yellow patches running up his arms and down his front, with a V on his forehead like antennae.
Maggie looked down at the table. It was mostly folded fabric that she could tell from the texture and colours wasn’t intended to be worn to the office. It must have been traditional Balin clothing, but that wasn’t what they were looking for.
“I need clothes for work,” Ro told the merchant in English, presumably for her benefit.
The merchant nodded and turned to unhook clothes that were hanging up on the wall of the stall behind him. Maggie would have liked a light or something, but the Balin seemed perfectly happy, and the way the sun was being blocked by tarpaulins had to be deliberate. The merchant laid the clothes down on top of the ones on the table and Maggie moved closer. She was there to help, but she didn’t want to crowd Ro. She would let him pick and wait to be asked for her opinion.
The clothes looked fine to her. They were clearly handmade, and Maggie wondered if they would be expensive. They were cut from cotton and wool, and were mostly white, black, or occasionally navy. She flipped through them, recognising the wrapped shirts and short trousers the other Teissians wore.
Ro went through them with less enthusiasm, looking lost. She wondered if maybe he didn’t want to spend the money, since he probably hadn’t been paid from his job yet. He must have some income though to have been eating for the last couple of weeks, and he never complained about joining her in the café.
“What if we separated them into top and bottom half?” Maggie suggested, beginning to pull trousers out of the pile. “Do you like any of these?”
In her opinion, they were remarkably similar and boring, and she suspected the Teissians made and wore these clothes because they had to, not because they liked them. She didn’t see any particular attention to detail or design in them. “Will they fit? Do you know your size?”
“They are his size,” the merchant chimed in, smiling politely.
Maggie guessed that must mean he was like a tailor or seamstress who could take your measurements just by looking. She wouldn’t argue, but she did glance at Ro to see if he believed it, but he wasn’t reacting, holding up a shirt to look at it as if he hadn’t heard.
“You don’t have to get a complete wardrobe today,” Maggie said, changing the subject. She pulled out a pair of trousers that weren’t just black, but had a faint diamond pattern woven into the thread. They were the most interesting pair in the pile. “What do you think about these?”
Ro took them but just held them in one hand. Maggie was beginning to suspect that just like a human man, he was useless at clothes shopping. It looked like she was going to have to step up if they hoped to get out of there any time soon.
“Well, navy will clash with your scales, so we’ll get rid of those,” she said, going through the pile and handing things back to the merchant. “How much is everything?”
After hearing the merchant’s answer, she calculated a quick budget in her head. The clothes were surprisingly cheap. Three shirts and a pair of pants was probably the best way to spend a reasonable amount of money. Assuming Ro did his laundry at the weekend and bought a few extra items before the end of the month, mixing in his human clothes from time to time where necessary, that would see him through.
Maggie proceeded to hold clothes up to Ro, testing colours and cuts. She decided against the patterned trousers as the grain was different from that of his scales and she found it distracting and not in a good way, like an optical illusion. Plain black would go with everything and no one would notice if he wore them often because people typically had more than one pair of plain black slacks.
The shirts were harder as there was more than one design.
“Well, what’s closest to what you would normally wear?” she said, trying to be constructive when he failed to have an opinion.
His eyes flicked up to catch hers and he smiled slowly. It was the merchant who answered. “Traditional Balin dress doesn’t include covering our upper bodies,” he said, gesturing to his own bare chest. He too had a smile like she’d said something funny, and she tried not to get flustered.
“I didn’t know that,” she argued, looking down to avoid the two men smirking at her.
“We show our colours,” the merchant said, dragging a claw tip up the yellow chevrons on his arms. “And our crests.”
Maggie watched as the merchant’s webbed crest unfurled like a yellow mohawk marbled with orange. Beside her, Ro suddenly snapped something in Balin, his voice harsh and his expression almost angry. The merchant held up his hands in peace, and his crest deflated to lie flat against his head again.
“She likes my colours, fila. I got carried away,” he said, and Ro grumbled under his breath in Balin.
Maggie looked at Ro, confused. Clearly something offensive had just happened that had gone over her head. She hoped it wasn’t too bad. She felt safe with Ro, but if he was angry she was sure it wasn’t without cause.
Bearing in mind that Ro didn’t have wings like the Volin did, and therefore didn’t require shirts with slits in the sides, Maggie pulled a standard white wrap shirt out of the pile, followed by a close-fitting one, and a pin-striped button down that was cut long and narrow to suit his frame. There weren’t many colours to choose from, and she had to pick ones that wouldn’t clash with black or pink, and she stayed away from black shirts so that he wouldn’t be walking around like the shadow of an undertaker.
“There, let’s get these, if you like them,” Maggie said, turning to Ro. “I
think they would suit you best from what’s on offer here.”
Ro considered the pile and while he didn’t look convinced, he didn’t argue. He reached for his wallet and Maggie followed the movement, catching sight of his feet.
“Oh, I forgot! You need those sock things so you don’t have the wear shoes anymore,” she reminded him.
The merchant frowned at her and leant over the desk to see Ro’s feet. “You are wearing shoes, fila? How are you doing that?” He sounded genuinely surprised and almost appalled. He quickly reached under the desk and added a couple of clear plastic packages with dark rubber inside.
Ro replied in Balin, his voice still a little hostile. Maggie was getting the feeling he was deliberately cutting her out of the conversation when he did that, and she didn’t like it. She didn’t mind respecting his privacy, but it made her feel invisible.
The merchant accepted Ro’s money, folding it and tucking it into his belt. Ro picked up the bundle of their purchases and moved to leave.
“Wait,” the merchant stopped them. He reached under the desk and produced some colourful silk, passing it to Maggie. “For the offence,” he explained.
Maggie looked at Ro, confused. He scowled at the merchant.
“Your offence was to me,” he said.
“And are your woman’s smiles not compensation enough?” he said smoothly with a smile.
Ro looked at Maggie as if considering. Maggie examined the silk in her hands. It was light as a feather and so smooth she could barely keep it folded as it kept trying to slither apart. It was midnight blue, but beautifully marbled in all kinds of colours, like a galaxy or mine rich in gold and copper. It was the most exotic thing she’d ever owned. She tried not to blush as she waited for Ro to deny that she was his woman, but he didn’t.
The New Guy (Office Aliens Book 2) Page 6