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“Seeing Earth from space was strange enough.” Ansley paused and shook her head, eyes wide with awe. “Approaching another world feels dreamlike. I’m having trouble accepting that this is real.”
“It’s real,” Tandor assured her as he pushed affection across their mind link. “And you’re ready for this.”
The market was located in a large coastal city and attracted traders from well beyond this star system. TheMadellehad delivered cargos bound for the market numerous times in the past, so Tandor and Jobek were familiar with the market’s operation. Vendors paid for stalls, some temporary, many permanent. Merchandise, pricing, and all negotiations were entirely at the discretion of the vendors. Once the fee was paid for the right to sell, the market organizers had a hands-off approach. Their attitude was part of what made the market so popular. It also drew some unsavory traders so they needed to be extra vigilant.
Aito circled the market several times, allowing them to take in the current layout.
“Our refraction shields are state-of-the-art,” Jobek told the pilot. “We’ve never been detected. Just keep the ship in a tight orbit and be ready to stream us onboard as soon as we make contact with our target.”
“Understood,” Aito responded.
“Monitor us on comms,” Tandor elaborated. “We might need to be pulled out quickly.”
“I’ll be ready, sir.”
Tandor nodded, then opened his mind and read the scene. He felt the chaotic energy of the teeming crowd below, but none of it felt malevolent.
Apparently noticing his blank stare, Jobek asked, “Is everything all right?”
“I believe so. There are myriad emotions and petty arguments, but none of it feels truly dangerous.”
Jobek nodded and motioned Ansley toward the center of the ship. “It’s time, love. Let’s go find Zevon’s spy.”
* * *
Excitement and uncertainty warred within Ansley as she strolled along the aisle between two rows of vendor stalls. Some of the stalls were actual stores that customers could enter and explore, but most were open front booths with wide counters and moveable tables. Tandor walked at her side, their fingers entwined. Jobek was directly behind them, his assessing gaze continually sweeping the crowd. Conventional weapons were not allowed in the market and everyone passed through munitions scanners before entering. Still, it was Jobek’s nature to be cautious.
Most of the merchandise didn’t look that different from items found on Earth. Brightly colored material, premade clothing, gadgets and toys, produce of every variety imaginable. Spices perfumed the air in one section of the market, and live animals were being sold in another.
Once Ansley grew accustomed to the wide selection of merchandise, she started paying closer attention to the merchants. The first thing she noticed was the variety of hair and eye colors. Tandor insisted that the red streaks in his hair were naturally occurring so she wondered the same thing about all the pink, blue, and vivid green hair. Were the beings born with pastel hair or had they chosen cosmetic enhancements?
They turned down another aisle and Ansley felt her eyes widen. None of the vendors in this section appeared even faintly humanoid. The first booth was being operated by highly evolved insects with bulging eyes and twitching antennae. There was a group of wolf-men, complete with long muzzles and sharp-looking claws. Another set of stalls was being run by amphibian-looking creatures, all of whom wore breathers that emitted a misty substance each time the fish people inhaled.
“Try not to stare so openly,” Tandor warned softly. “Some species will take it as an invitation.”
She nodded and dragged her gaze away. “How long do we keep walking around?” She stopped every so often and pretended to look at something more closely, but always set it back down and walked off before the vendor could speak with her.
Tandor’s fingers tightened around hers and she looked up to see what had caused the reaction. He was staring off into space, barely walking.
“Are you okay?” She tried to pull her hand free but his grip tightened even more.
He’s having a vision. Give him a moment, Jobek explained.
She drew Tandor over to one side and made it look as if they were deep in conversation.
“They are everywhere and nowhere,” Tandor whispered, shaking his head. He blinked repeatedly, but his gaze was still unfocused. “They’re watching, and waiting.”
“Who are you talking about?” she asked him.
Before Tandor could respond, a cloaked figure stepped out from between two of the stalls. She approached them directly, her face lost in shadow.
“I’m waiting for a friend,” she stated clearly in ancient Altorian. It was the language most often spoken at the Citadel. “Is there any chance you would be able to give me a ride?”
That was the code Zevon had set up. This had to be Langlis, or whatever she was calling herself on Pyron.
“Of course,” Jobek told her, giving Tandor a moment more to shake off the vision. “Your friend sent us. We have a ship waiting.”
“Very good.” She pushed back the hood just enough to reveal her smile. “We need to depart as soon as possible.”
