Mikoz squirmed in Corinne’s arms, reaching toward the ocean as if drawn to it. Anya spun in a slow circle, taking in the unfamiliar landscape. And Corinne looked at him with such trust and hope that his heart ached.
He took a deep breath and felt something in his chest loosen. This could work. This could actually work.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Corinne’s legs trembled as she descended the ramp, and she wasn’t entirely sure whether it was from six days in cramped quarters or from the weight of what they were doing. Running. Hiding. Building a life on lies and forged documents with a male she’d known for less than two months.
But what a male.
She glanced at Selik as he surveyed the spaceport with the practiced eye of someone who’d spent his life assessing threats. Even in civilian clothes—a simple dark tunic and pants that somehow made him look even more dangerous than his uniform—he moved with predatory grace. His tail swayed behind him in a slow rhythm she’d learned meant he was alert but not alarmed.
Mikoz grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked.
“No.” She carefully extracted his tiny fists from the strands. “We’ve discussed this, remember? Hair stays attached to heads.”
The infant chirped and immediately reached for her hair again.
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” she muttered, shifting him to her other hip.
The spaceport sprawled before them, a chaotic mix of landing pads and cargo facilities that somehow felt more alive than the sterile military vessel they’d left behind. Ships of various sizes occupied the bays—sleek personal flyers like theirs, battered cargo haulers with mismatched hull plating, even something that looked like it had been cobbled together from three different vessels and held together with hope and welding scars.
But it was the people that made her stop and stare. Dozens of different types of aliens occupied the port. A family of four-armed blue-skinned beings unloaded crates from a nearby ship, their movements synchronized with an efficiency that suggested telepathy or long practice. Something that looked vaguely reptilian but walked on six legs skittered past carrying a datapad in what might have been a mouth. A massive creature covered in rust-colored fur lumbered by, ducking to avoid hitting the overhead canopy.
“There are so many different people,” she said, her voice small even to her own ears.
“Tillich Two is a trade hub.” His hand settled on the small of her back, warm and steadying. “The Tillichi are the native inhabitants, but there are at least fifteen other species residing here.”
“Fifteen?”
“Perhaps more. I am working from outdated census data.”
A group of pink-skinned aliens walked past, several of them with cybernetic implants that glowed faintly purple in the fading light.
This is my life now, she thought.Aliens and criminals and forged identities.
The panic that had been hovering at the edges of her consciousness since they left the Patrol ship threatened to break through. She’d been a literature professor. Her biggest concern three months ago had been whether her students would actually read the assigned texts or rely on summary websites. She’d taught classes on metaphor and narrative structure and the evolution of language. Now she was a fugitive raising an alien infant while bonded to a warrior who’d lost everything and rebuilt himself.
“Corinne.” Selik’s voice pulled her back from the edge. “Breathe.”
She sucked in air that tasted of salt and something floral she couldn’t identify. Not Earth flowers—the scent was too sweet, almost cloying. But underneath it, she caught the familiar smell of ocean and wet stone and the particular dampness that came from being near large bodies of water.
Ocean.
She turned toward the sound of waves and saw it—a vast expanse of blue-green water stretching to the horizon. The sun hung low in the sky, painting the surface in shades of copper and gold. White foam crowned the waves as they rolled toward a rocky shoreline dotted with what looked like tide pools.
“It’s beautiful,” Anya breathed beside her. “I didn’t think… I mean, I knew it was a water world, but I didn’t expect it to look so much like home.”
“Earth’s oceans are blue,” she said. “This is more green.”
“Close enough.” Her stepdaughter shaded her eyes against the setting sun. “Can we go swimming? I haven’t been swimming in forever.”
“Perhaps tomorrow.” Selik guided them away from the landing pad toward a cluster of buildings that formed the port’s administrative center. “Tonight we need to secure housing and register our arrival.”
The registration office was staffed by a bored-looking alien whose skin shifted through shades of purple as they processed Selik’s forged documents. They barely glanced at Corinne or the children, just scanned the files into their system and handed over temporary residence permits.
“Welcome to Tillich Two,” the administrator said in a flat, uninterested voice. “Permits are valid for sixty days. If you wish to establish permanent residence, you’ll need to apply through the colonial administration. Next.”
That was it. No questions about where they’d come from or why they’d chosen this particular backwater colony. No suspicious scrutiny of their too-perfect documents. Just bureaucratic indifference and a waved dismissal.
