I’m sorry, whoever you are. I just don’t think I’m safe for you anymore.
7: Jovie
Talros and I await our shuttles in the Terran spaceport. I’ve bought us both a drink, some alcohol from an alien planet I’ve never heard of. Its fruity burn helps calm my nerves. I’ve finally sold my shit hoverclunker to a scrap yard and made enough credits to pay off my ticket to ABR and celebrate.
“I wish there was an ABR for dudes so you could travel the stars like you want,” I say to Talros as I set my empty glass down, savoring my light buzz.
He smirks and shakes his head. “And have to marry a princess and take that hit to my pride? No thanks. Some guys would go for it just for bragging rights and the rain of credits. It means a lot to me to be capable of caring for a woman.
“But, seriously, don’t worry about me. You just find yourself a good guy who can properly take care of you. Avoid Ginarigons and Talhuskins. Klaphos are deep in battle. Vinym require inoculations before sex.”
I cringe.
“There are a few things that probably aren’t in your catalog,” he adds. “Jorbiun flip a switch when they get angry and throw quills that hide near their spines. Drathious control fire and can breathe it out like dragons.”
I sit forward. These thingsaren’tlisted. “I imagine they don’t tell us, so we’re not scared off.”
“Right.” Talros arches a blond brow. “Just a compulsion to help you avoid unnecessary vulnerability since I won’t be there to beat their asses for you and tell you which ones I approve of.”
Chewing a cheek, I consider his suggestions. “Alright, fine. I’m sure I don’t want to hear it, but you’re right. I should. Keep going.”
“Amphirs can kill a human with a handshake. Our discharge harnesses can handle starships, but a powerful Amphir could still kill you with the wrong touch.”
I look down at the threads embedded in my skin that cover my body, a requirement for all starship technicians and engineers. It took three months to heal from the procedure and three years to pay it off.
Talros continues. “Mindor, the furry blue guys, will pack up around you. So if your mate dies, you will belong to the next in his chain of command,whoeverthat is. Leosanti have a tendency to burn our retinas when they ignite. I hear Isonians are worse. So to be with them, you’ll need special glasses or eye augments.”
I’m certain this is the side of Talros that his gentle ex-girlfriend from reception struggled with.
“How do you know all this stuff?”
“Remember a few years back when they sent me to work at the Pieris spaceport? I was assigned to an intergalactic military crew vessel. Spent a couple of years on thatUltra Violent.”
While he was gone, Ether Aerospace Engineering sent me to Jupiter Base up north to learn hoverpad and thruster design for mass transports with an emphasis on battlefield durability. But I always wondered what he went through. Talros never wants to talk about it.
“I’m sure you’ll get picked,” he continues. “But whatifyou don’t win and don’t get picked? I mean, you will. But do you have a backup plan? Are you coming back?
I hate to tell him the truth, but I don’t have the energy or desire to manage lies. “There’s an assistance program after the race. I can work for ABR for as long as I need.”
Deep down, I hope I’m picked. The money would be great, but it isn’t the bond I want. Yet as I think through Tal’s warnings, I’m not sure I’ll find a single species that’s safe for me. Venom, quills, moodiness, fireballs, electric arcs, he can’t help himself and continues listing all the species he knows and the plethora of ways they can kill humans.
“Not deadly, but Talhuskins and similar species like strange beds like those made of sticks and pebbles.”
That would definitely kill me.It suddenly makes the memories of sleeping in my car seem like sleeping on a throne.
But I’m committed. I’ve worked too long and hard to save up for the race.
Mindor would be safe enough. Leosanti retinal burns would suck, but I’m familiar with augments. I can take a zap, so Amphir is still on the table. And Ferrim still sounds like a fun place to live, even if they’re still recovering from a recent battle. Who isn’t?
“Now boarding the shuttle to Alien Bride Race.” The announcer repeats it.
“That’s you,” Talros grins. “Mine leaves just after yours. I’ll be right behind you, just on Catalyst Five.”
I sigh and get up from my barstool, then swing my stuffed satchel over my shoulder. “I guess this is it.”
He stands and draws me into a hug. “Promise you won’t forget me.”
I return his hug. “Same for you.”
