Tornadium’s reputation has had me feeling anxious even before we arrived, but it’s not until after the Barracuda has landed, and I’ve taken my first steps out into its dingy streets that my discomfort has heightened significantly more; like a cat dropped into a bathtub. The port city of Bootspike reeks of seediness by the assessment of every one of my senses. The scrapy, improvised architecture and grubby buildings are like a forest of metal and polymer interconnected by wires, cables, and railings, while the ground beneath my feet is mostly gravel. The fumy air isn’t pleasant either, though I’ve grown used to this when making port after lengthy spaceflights. Regardless of Bootspike’s dodgy atmosphere though, I can tell it’s still very much a place full of life and energy. There’s noise, extravagant neon, and people of all different species wherever I look.
With the planet’s rotation putting local time at around early evening, I’m beginning to worry about the kind of nightlife we’re walking into, though having Harper and Estevez along with me for backup is definitely a confidence booster. We’re definitely in the Wild West now, I think to myself. Shamrock may have had a twisted kind of order to it, but Tornadium is a very different story. Welcome to the jungle.
“I appreciate you bringing us along, LT,” says Estevez. “You know, this sure ain’t the type of scene I’m used to seeing, but I’m kind of diggin’ it, and hey, it sure beats our last stop.”
“I’m glad one of us appreciates the scenery,” I half-groan. “Just remember, this isn’t shore leave we’re on here. And try not to call me LT either. We’re trying to blend in.”
“You don’t really seem like the kind of guy who takes much shore leave, Foxy,” Harper knowingly comments.
“What makes you say that?” I ask, faking a smile to try to hide the fact that she’s guessed right.
“It’s just the impression I get from you is all,” she answers. “Doesn’t really seem like it’s your style, Mister strait-laced boy-scout.”
I glance down, still trying to maintain my grin while not being sure if I should feel flattered or embarrassed by her comment.
“Well, even if letting loose now and then ain’t your thing, boss, this Tio you’ve told us about sounds cool,” says Estevez. “Having a Solm along on the mission might make things a bit more fun, you know what I’m saying?”
“Pfft, they tend to get a bit annoying sometimes, I think; bunch of space hippies,” Harper derisively scoffs.
“Hey, let’s just wait and see before we make any judgements,” I say diffusively. “We haven’t met this person yet so who knows. Maybe the Solm that live out in this part of space aren’t quite the same as the ones back near Human space.”
The reply message that I got back from Tio just after we arrived said to rendezvous at a club called Feverdream. We’re now just reaching the street it’s in, finding the entrance heavily lit with ostentatious neon. Jeez, they didn’t have to go that hard. A small number of people are still moving back and forth along the street, though a big relief for me is the lack of any kind of line or queue anywhere. Regardless though, it still isn’t the kind of meeting point I’d have preferred.
“Why a club of all places?” I moan.
“Some people like to live a little, Foxy,” Harper comments. “You should give it a try sometime.”
I can’t be bothered arguing at this point.
As I make my way toward the entrance, I’m confronted by a very intimidating door bouncer; a Gorkon. Standing at nearly eight feet tall, his species’ hallmarks include a thick, serpentine neck with small spines down the back, a flat nose with downward tilting nostrils, and three-pronged ears. Most noticeable of all though are his horns that point back and upward, with two small ones at the top corners of his forehead and four longer ones at the back of his skull on the top and sides. His scaly skin is a dull, pinkish red with faint striping. As I stop in front of him, Godzilla simply meets me with a glare.
“Entry for Patrick Fox?” I say, trying not to sound nervous.
The bouncer takes a look at his hand-unit. “You’re here,” he says in a deep, rasping voice. “It’s one only. Your friends aren’t getting in with you.”
“What? You said Tio put you down with a plus two,” Harper angrily puts in.
“You’re not getting in,” the bouncer growls.
Harper steps forward aggressively. “Oh yeah, you want to-”
“Alright, alright,” I interrupt, putting my arm up in front of her. “Look guys,” I say, turning back towards her and Estevez. “I’ll be fine on my own. Just wait here and keep an eye out, and if there’s any trouble, radio me. Clear?”
“Clear,” Harper says unenthusiastically with a frown still on her face.
Taking a deep breath, I head in.
Aside from the ambient lighting, the most noticeable thing to grab my attention on stepping in is the aggressive, rough-around-the-edges music that I’m guessing is some kind of Greyside punk, though I’ll admit this a bit of an uneducated guess coming from me. I’m more of a hair metal revival kind of guy myself. The number of people is surprisingly less than I’d expected, though I’m guessing that having a guest list for tonight is part of the reason. Most of them are at tables or standing, with their attention either on each other or what’s playing on the large screens on the right-hand side of the room. One group seems especially excited by what looks like a live stream of a very bloody cage fight between two Serapsi; claws, teeth, and all. Flicking my gaze in the opposite direction, I’m met with the sight of a scantily dressed Dradori woman leaning over a Human man who’s kneeling with his mouth open. On realising that she’s placed what appears to be a shot glass between her breasts, I quickly look away, not wanting to be caught staring.
As I head toward the back of the room, I come to the bar, which runs along the back wall; this being the first place I can think to go to find Tio. The bartender is a grey-haired Human man who’s dressed in what looks like deliberately outdated clothing; a waistcoat and bowtie. Must be a gimmick of some kind, I think.
“Hey there, fella. What’ll it be?” he asks in a friendly voice as I stop at the bar’s edge.
“I’m here to meet someone, perhaps you can help me,” I say in a serious tone. “A Solm woman.”
“Is there a specific Solm you’re after or are you just craving some blue and need me to point you at the nearest one?” the bartender asks with a sly grin.
“I mean a specific one,” I say. “Her name’s Tio Dallom.”
“And who might you be to ask?” he says in a more serious manner, lowering one hand below the bar.
“Name’s Fox,” I answer, keeping my cool despite the subtle threat I’m getting. “I’m a contact with a new job for her.”
“Fox eh? Yeah, come to think of it, I seem to recall Tio mentioning that name,” says the bartender, readopting his smirk. “Gillim, find Tio and tell her that her friend’s here,” he asks with a raised voice in the direction of a Tembri staff member who’s not far from us.
“Thanks,” I say, feeling relieved.
“Hey, any friend of Tio’s is fine by me,” the Bartender says. “It’s always good seeing her whenever she’s in port. Business always seems better when she’s in, like her luck rubs off on us somehow.”
Barely having time to notice the sound of footsteps to my right, I suddenly jolt in response to what I realise is someone pinching my backside. Startled, I turn my head that way, only to realise that the person responsible has already moved to my left.
“I take it you’re Patrick then?” comes a chirpy voice.
I turn to face its owner, a startlingly attractive Solm woman who’s smiling at me exuberantly. Wow. Try not to go googly-eyed there, buddy, I tell myself. Her skin is pale blue, and her ears come to points where a Human’s are rounded (as Humans say, Solm, Dradori, and Theran are Elf-eared; Etrians and Sidrians are Vulcan-eared). Her friendly face has large eyes, her irises being a mild purple, while her hair is a near-white grey and cut short with the top flicked to one side. As distracting as her looks are though, I’m trying my best to stay focussed.
“I hope Val here hasn’t been spinning any phony stories about me,” she playfully says, shooting a glance at the bartender.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he teases.
“Whatever, you cheeky old skaff,” Tio says. “Mind fixing me another pink boob, please? Something for my friend here too. What’ll it be Mr Fox? It’s on me.”
I hesitate, still feeling a bit shaken by her spirted mix of positivity and confidence, not to mention her rather hands-on greeting. “I’m fine, thanks,” I say. “It’s best not to drink while I’m working.”
Tio grins amusedly, putting her tongue between her teeth. “Come now, I’d normally find an excuse like that to be very suspicious. Makes me think you’re up to something,” she says, giving me a coercive look.
“Alright, fine. Whatever you’re having then, I suppose,” I concede, cracking a smile.
“Two pink boobs,” the bartender chuckles.
“I hope blue ones are just as much to your liking as well,” Tio says with bold wryness.
I feel my eyes go wide with shock. “Excuse me?”
She laughs cutely. “I’m only playing with you,” she giggles. “You ought to see the look on your face. You’re as pink as our drinks.”
Embarrassed, I nervously laugh back. “Yeah. That’s a… great way to break the ice,” I say with restrained sarcasm. Normally Tio’s manner would make it hard for me to take any other tone than a casual one, but there are more pressing concerns gnawing at me right now. “Can I ask why you mislead me about my name being on the door list with a plus two?” I ask, sounding faintly accusatory in an attempt re-establish some assertiveness.
“Oh yeah. Sorry about that,” Tio answers. “Probably not the best way to start our relationship, but I always tend to prefer a one-on-one introduction where possible; more personal that way. I like to get a feel for who I’m working with.”
I raise an eyebrow suspiciously, feeling a tad puzzled. “You’re… concerned about a reciprocity of trust then,” I say in a manner that’s half-query and half-statement. I already know what Tio has and hasn’t been told about us and our mission, yet part of me senses she’s reaching for more here, as though she’s still weighing her options. The thought of needing to explain it to the Captain if she decides to change her mind suddenly prompts a spark of panic in my mind.
Tio chuckles. “That’s shrewd of you to say, if you’re right. Or, on the other hand, it’s perhaps a little paranoid. See, the thing is, I’ve always had good instincts for when someone’s hiding something. In the case of you and your crew though, I think I know better than to ask,” she says, before leaning in closer. “But tell me, Mr Fox. How much trouble am I really signing up for here?” she asks in a boldly mischievous tone.
My expression turns stiff as I feel my nervousness increasing. “As much as it isn’t my place to say, I… think I should be honest with you here,” I begin, resigning myself to letting slip more than I know I should. “The real danger to all of this is-”
“Hold up there. You don’t need to say anymore,” Tio interrupts, putting her index finger on my lips, causing me to tense up. “You don’t seem like the kind of person who lies easily. I was merely trying to gain an insight into you, and… I can appreciate it. You don’t need to give away anything you’re not supposed to just to gain my trust here, and I’d hate to see you get in trouble for it. I know how important rules are for… your people.”
An odd feeling of relief hits me, which I’m surprised at. Tio is clever, yet her intentions still seem honest. “So, you don’t have a problem with being in the dark about certain things?” I ask, realising as I say it that I’m implying such details are relevant. “Even if what we’re dealing with might be both highly sensitive and dangerous?”
“Not at all,” says Tio. “I like a bit of mystery, and little danger.”
I smile, closing my eyes briefly with amusement. “Well, just a heads up, I wouldn’t try playing with the Captain this same way,” I say, beginning to feel more comfy. “He’s… not as friendly as I am, and I know he wouldn’t appreciate being misled.”
“You say that almost like a child who’s afraid of his father,” Tio comments, tilting her head slightly.
Startled by this, I almost seize up, hoping my expression hasn’t shown just how shocked I am. Without knowing it, she’s struck a major nerve. “Not really,” I say, trying to ignore it. “I just… prefer to stay on people’s good sides.”
“So, you’re not one to ‘rock the boat’ then, as you Humans say,” Tio says, looking down and away briefly, though still grinning. “Shame.”
I turn forward, trying not to read too much into what I’m guessing she’s hinting at. I take another sip of my drink that’s in an oddly spherical glass. No prizes for guessing how it got its name, I think. It’s sweet, yet it tastes peculiar, most likely getting its flavour from some sort of alien fruit, is my guess.
“So,” I continue after a drawn-out pause, turning back toward Tio. “Can I assume you’re ready to leave at a moment’s notice? Time is rather of the essence for us.” Presently, I’m mainly just hoping Harper doesn’t start a brawl with the bouncer outside.
“I’m ready when you are,” Tio chirps. “Your timing is actually quite impeccable. I finished my last job only two days ago and had the remaining time since to spare. Heading off asap suits me. I’ve never really been one for staying in one place for too long.”
“Speaking of which, my colleagues outside probably won’t thank me for dawdling too long,” I state. feeling my impatience niggling ever more.
“We won’t be keeping them waiting much longer,” Tio says, downing the rest of her drink. Taking out her hand-unit, she gives it a few taps before shooting a nod and a wink toward the bartender. As we stand to leave, she then says, “It’ll be nice to travel with a crew again, though I never know what to expect with you Humans. You’re always such a mixed bag.”
“We’re… not without our ugly side at times,” I say with a stiff brow as we walk toward the exit.
“Neither are we, as hard as that is for most aliens to believe. Still, I’ve always found that there’s a pretty and an ugly side to things wherever you go. It’s not always even, but it’s there if you know how to look, and I certainly know where I prefer to direct my attention.”
Despite my scepticism, I find that I don’t want to argue in the face of Tio’s positivity. “That’s… insightful,” I say, sounding unsure.
Tio trots ahead of me nonchalantly, looking back with a knowing smile. “This is going to be fun,” she declares with a swagger in her step as she heads through the exit.
I can’t help but smile back, feeling charmed by her optimism. I’m beginning to feel more relaxed, though presently I’m not sure whether it’s due to Tio’s positive energy or the drink which I don’t want to guess at the strength of. Deciding not to question it, I continue on with renewed determination.
Benjamin Kirkby 