Page 38 of Desperate Measures

Though Charity had become quite familiar with the promenade due to her frequent and often clandestine visits, she glanced around in search of a diversion for the old dear. What did Kalquorians offer a woman in her fifties for fun and excitement?

The black door leading to the pleasure club made her grin. As hilarious as it might be to see Aunt Ruth’s expression if Charity could concoct a ruse to have her witness Kalquorians doing the dirty for all to view, it would be a joke too far. Charity herself hadn’t dared to set foot in the station’s pleasure club. A young, single woman in a room full of aroused Kalquorian men who were eager to play sex games she’d heard were rather rough? Nope, nope, nope, nope, all day long.

Aunt Ruth had already made several trips to the household supply store. There was a theater, but its next show wasn’t for three months…Charity had seen the call for auditions a few days ago. There’d been a lemanthev concert the night before, but she prized her eardrums too much to have dared it.

Custom battle armor. Entertainment systems. The handcrafted wooden decorations and gifts in one shop had possibilities. Charity was about to draw Ruth’s attention to the tiny store when she stopped in her tracks.

Her focus zeroed in on a Unicorn. Not the legendary horse-like creature of old Earth fables, but an alien formally known as a Gyma. The single horn sprouting from a Gyma’s forehead had prompted the nickname bestowed on it by Charity’s fellow human classmates at the university. Gymas were also sometimes referred to as Rhinos since their horns appeared more akin to that particular animal’s.

There was a Gyma professor at Charity’s school who taught astronomical spatial analysis. His exams were so tough, Earther students who managed to pass them often cracked jokes about ‘slaying the Unicorn.’

Outside of the horns on the Gymas’ shaggy furred heads, they bore a simian aspect. Their arms were incredibly long, reaching to the calves of their bowed legs. One of Charity’s girlfriends, who had missed the five-foot-tall mark by an inch and a half, often gazed up at objects she couldn’t reach on tall shelves and sighed, “I don’t care if they do look like a cross between gibbons and rhinos. I need a Unicorn boyfriend, stat.”

This particular Gyma/Unicorn/Rhino on the promenade had snagged Charity’s attention not because non-Kalquorians, though present on the station, were rare. She hadn’t noticed him because the fellow reminded her of the hard-assed professor either. Her gaze had passed over him at least half a dozen times as she’d sought a diversion her aunt might enjoy, but it only now registered he’d been staring at her the whole while.

Her brow lifted, and she paused to plant her hands on her hips as she returned the scrutiny. Take a picture, freak. It’ll last longer.

The Gyma hunched and quickly shuffled off. It disappeared among the many Kalquorians roaming the promenade.

“Charity?” Uncle George touched her elbow. “Is something wrong?”

“Just some weirdo paying me too much attention.” As she said it, it occurred to her that Unicorns weren’t typically physically attracted to Earthers. They tended to find the lack of fur repulsive.

Still, the Gyma had given her the same gross feeling from the scrutiny she’d gotten from the crewmen on the renegade Earther cruiser she, Hope, and their father had been stuck on until Clan Piras had rescued them five years prior. When puberty had struck Charity, it had come on fast. It was as if she’d gone to bed a child one night and woken a fully developed woman. From stick figure to lush curves…and she’d been noticed, especially by Holy Shithead Browning Copeland.

The Unicorn had looked at her with not precisely the same sort of lust, but Charity had detected a species of wanting.

“You’re being watched?” Her protective instincts aroused, Aunt Ruth gazed in the same direction as Charity, where she’d last seen the alien.

“It was a Gyma. Maybe he was surprised to see an Earther on the station.”

“We should report it.”

Charity patted her aunt’s shoulder. “Why make a fuss? It took off when I gave it the patented Charity Nath glare. My laser stare probably singed its fur.”

“If someone identifies you as a Nath—”

“We’re surrounded by Kalquorians.” Charity waved her arms to indicate the large number of dark, muscled bodies moving around them. “Who’s going to mess with me on their station?”

“We’ll report the incident to Nobek Selt anyway. We can’t take chances,” Uncle George said. The affable gent had turned steely in determination.

Charity sighed, but warmth filled her in the wake of her guardians’ protectiveness. She was loved.

* * * *

Open Arms Orphanage

“I remind you, Admiral Ydru, the vast majority of our population are children. Your own regulations prohibit the presence of weapons at Open Arms Orphanage,” Cheryl said in the even tone she fought so hard for.

The Encan on her vid com bared sharp teeth and spoke in his doubled voice. “The children have nothing to fear from us as long as the Kalquorians you harbor come quietly. Because we suspect they won’t, we will indeed bring weapons to subdue them. It’s up to you to keep the young out of our way.”

“As I said, you won’t find any Kalquorians here at the facility. They slipped away a few days ago when they heard you were coming. They’re probably in the woods.”

“Then we’ll search there. After we thoroughly investigate your orphanage and determine you aren’t hiding them on the premises. Ydru out.”

The former nun drew a deep breath. “They’re coming. God help us all.”

* * * *

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