Page 77 of Sublime Target

She had a little thought at the back of her mind of how the night might end.

Just in case, she’d worn some amazing lingerie.

Were aliens even into that sort of thing?

A soft chime caught her attention. It came from the delicate black device on her dresser—the capsule-communication-invite thing she’d received from the Kordolians.

That strange piece of a puzzle that now made perfect sense.

For a moment, her heart stopped beating.

They were here.

She grabbed her purse and glanced at her appearance in the mirror one last time.

She looked as good as she was ever going to get.

Here we go.

Clarissa exited her apartment and made her way up to the rooftop in the elevator. A fellow resident dressed in track pants and a hoodie, a toy poodle cradled in his arms, stared at her momentarily before politely looking away.

He exited on the seventeenth floor, leaving her to ride alone to the rooftop, where the Kordolians had advised her to wait.

Were they going to drop down from the sky like Jerik had, pulling her up by a precariously thin-looking wire cable?

She could just imagine losing a heel or getting her hair ruffled in the process. Ha.

The elevator doors opened.

She stepped out.

Thankfully, the rooftop was deserted. The sun was setting, casting a golden-orange glow across the smooth pavers and the manicured gardens. A balmy breeze swept past, and it had the effect of calming her a little.

She was going to see him again.

What would he be like when he was in the presence of other Kordolians; at this official and formal event?

Would he be annoyed with her for holding out on him? Would he be preoccupied with more important things?

He was a rather big cog in the machine, after all.

She walked to the rooftop’s edge and looked out across the glittering cityscape. In the deepening night, the view was as beautiful as ever. She looked up at the sky, suffused with the glow of millions of bright lights.

She could barely see the stars.

Her tenseness kicked up a notch. There was nobody here. Were the Kordolians late?

What if nobody was coming?

“Good evening, ma’am.” But just then, someone greeted her in perfect Universal. The voice came from behind. She spun around and came face to face with a Kordolian.

He was young-ish looking, perhaps in his mid-twenties by human standards, although she had no idea what the normal Kordolian lifespan was or how they aged. He wore a dapper black uniform with a small silver star embroidered on the right side of his chest.

He offered her a slight bow and gestured toward a hovering machine-thing that had appeared out of nowhere. It looked like a giant floating surfboard, although it was black all over and had a sleek handrail for holding onto. “My name is Lyzar. I serve the boss, who had the pleasure of making your acquaintance one week past. He is pleased beyond measure that you have accepted the invitation to join him. I’m merely here to escort you. If you would be so gracious…” he gestured toward the hoverboard thing. “I will take you up to our vessel, the Starcatcher.”

“That’s a nice name,” she remarked, trying not to show her surprise. Since when had Kordolians ever had a reputation for being smooth like this?

Since Jerik, probably.

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