Tales from Ardulum by J.S. Fields

Author:J.S. Fields [Fields, J.S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: NineStar Press, lgbt, Aliens, bonded, criminals, Religion, science, smugglers, space, spaceships, telekinesis, telepathy
Publisher: NineStar Press, LLC
Published: 2019-08-14T22:00:00+00:00

Subversion

2060 CE

Spaceports. They smelled the same no matter what galaxy you were in. This one, at least, had a biometal base, so Corccinth could rip a hole in its side and let herself be sucked into the void if the smell got too bad. The permeating odors of bipedal bodies, Oorin mining fumes, and the red, sticky liquid under her foot was worse than that of burnt andal. Hopefully, she wouldn’t be here long, listening to a supposedly pleasant fake water feature as every sort of fur, hair, and scale streaked past.

Corccinth ran bony fingers through her graying hair and then patted her cheeks to check that her thick makeup—the powder that hid her flare markings—was still in place. Most of the beings in the Charted Systems were bipeds, so she was certain she didn’t stand out, but that didn’t help the restless feeling she had of being a predatory nhu in a titha breeding ground.

“Advisor Corccinth?”

“You’re late. I don’t appreciate that.” The query had come in Risal’s primary language. Corccinth had responded in High Uklam. Not only were all the Risalian languages hard on her throat, but there was no chance that any random passersby would know her native tongue.

A thin Risalian—all elbows, knees, and gill slits, dressed in a light-blue tunic that was far too large for hir frame—sat down tentatively to Corccinth’s left on the wobbly wooden bench. It wouldn’t have been wobbly if it had been made from andal. Instead, the wood was red with cream-colored streaks and smelled like pesticide. It was another fine example of why Ardulum had never returned to the Charted Systems.

“My apologies,” the Risalian responded in near-fluent High Uklam. Impressed, Corccinth straightened. She knew second dons on Ardulum that didn’t speak High Uklam that well. “My class ran long, and my crèche mates were detained. I’m afraid I’m the only one who can meet with you today. I’m Pihn, a markin trainee. I’ve been the one corresponding with you via deep-space comm. I know you’ve come a long way. Might I suggest we go someplace less noisy? I’ve booked a meeting room on the fortieth floor, and I can have cooked andal brought in for you.”

Corccinth’s stomach growled, but she frowned. “Tempting, but I have less than two Ardulan hours to return before my next meeting. This isn’t an authorized trip, as you might imagine. So, here will do. It gives me a—” She gestured to the three Oori slicks that were sloshing about near her feet. “—a feel for the climate, as you might say, of your situation. I don’t suppose…”

An unsettling presence flitted across her mind. The hair on Corccinth’s arm stood on end as she scanned the area, searching for its owner. The touch hadn’t been alien at all, but disjointed. Fragmented. Uncannily familiar.

“Where?” she breathed, but then the presence was back, connecting in a solid lock. Corccinth’s eyes followed the invisible mental thread to a shadowed corner. All she could see was a pair of feet streaked with dark veins, but that was more than enough.

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