CONTAGION by Amanda Milo

Author:Amanda Milo [Milo, Amanda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-11-18T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 14

Aurora approaches a cheerful yellow-painted clapboard building with much foreboding.

Mindful of our reception at the eatery stand, I’m inclined to feel more apprehension than even my usual healthy amount of social anxiety.

To distract myself, I whisper, “What does the sign for this establishment read?”

“Mercantile,” Aurora whispers back, and with a fortifying breath, she opens the shop’s door.

A loud clamor immediately kicks up—and in reaction, I hook Aurora around her waist and drag her behind me.

Aurora pats me on my back right next to one of my dorsal tubes. “That’s a doorbell, Simmi. Thank you for watching out for me.”

“You’re welcome.”

She steps around me, shooting me a thin but amused smile, before she moves through the door. I follow on her heels, having to duck to clear the entry. I extrapolate that they don’t have many Genneӝt-sized patrons visiting their shop. Aurora pans her gaze cautiously, gazing around as if there are threats hidden behind every overburdened rack of garments. And it’s a possibility; I could easily fit myself among the clothes and not be noticed. It would be a simple thing for a human male or an alien male of a similar size to me to manage the same feat.

Aurora takes almost no time in selecting what she wants. She nearly grabs the first item off of a rack before she approaches a large counter where she pats her hand on a small dome. An offensively loud peal of sound rings from it.

“My galaxies, why did you do that?” I ask in consternation. “That’s a terrible noise.”

“We’re supposed to do it. It gets the shopkeeper’s attention.”

“No doubt; they’d have to be dead not to hear this,” I grouse.

Aurora reaches back and pats my abdomen. “Shush, Simmi.”

I’d been about to say more, but something about her hand’s placement does indeed shush me effectively.

Aurora makes the dome ring again.

“Please stop,” I complain, shuffling back and covering my ear depressions. “Let’s search on our own for the shopkeeper. Silently. Perhaps they’ve gotten lost among all these wares.” I gesture at the largest rack of colorful garments to emphasize my point, but my eyes snag on a soft coral-colored something.

I move to it, lifting it and finding that it’s a dress of similar size to Aurora. Shells from the saline shores of my planet are this color, and although I wouldn’t have classified it as a favorite hue of mine, I did always find the insides of the glossy, water-smoothed calcium coverings aesthetically pleasing. As lovely as Aurora is in her torn blue dress, what would she look like in this?

Radiant.

My cardiac muscle thumps oddly just picturing her in it.

Unbidden, I also picture her without it—the glimpse of her bathing earlier apparently burned into my brain, because I don’t believe there’s a detail of her form that I’m forgetting.

A man's voice breaks into my roused, exhilarated imaginings. “...try across the street, lady. You’re on the wrong side of town if you’re looking for someone who’ll serve an alien-fucking slut.” He’s delivered this advice in an ugly snarl.

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