Page 13 of Alien Peacock

To my astonishment, the little female takes two steps towards me and stares up at me with eyes that shoot lightning. “Listen, Arelion. I havehadit with your constant accusations about Earth people being untrustworthy. On Earth, we built a whole civilization on trust! When we make a deal, we just shake hands. Sure, we navigate life with our eyes open. But we’re no less trustworthy than anyone else. That’s all made up by the evil aliens that invaded and enslaved us! I’m surprised that a man as smart as you didn’t understand that right away. We may not have fancy starships and beautiful wings that change color. But we know how to be worthy of trust. And some would say that’s more important. Thanks for the transport. Here’s the payment.” She grabs my hand and presses two credit crystals into my palm. “See? It was safe to trust me to pay for the ride. And now I trustyouto give me my stick back, like you said.”

I feebly hold the metal stick out to her, stunned by her outburst.

“Thank you. See how that works?” She snatches the stick out of my hand, spins in place, and marches out of the ship and into the station.

The furry robot follows. “Sincere thanks from me too. Uh, which station is this?”

“Maranar Labs,” Cerak tells her. “The perfect place for you and your squeaky circuits to get thevoidout of our ship.”

The robot trots out, head held high. “They’re not squeaky, just cheap. Hey, we don’tchoosewhat components we’re made from.”

“All right,” I finally manage when they’re both gone. “Thatwas unexpected.”

“A fiery female,” Cerak muses. “I’ve never seen any of them go off on you like that. They usually just flutter their tentacles or stroke their scales seductively.”

“She’s crazy,” I mutter. “What if she’d made me mad?”

“She didn’t,” Cerak points out. “She just turned you on. Yeah, I know what that movement in your pants means.”

“Never talk about my pants,” I growl in annoyance, mostly because he’s right. Seeing that Maeve had the bravery to stand up for her planet and lecture me like that just made her all the more alluring. My pants are creaking with barely contained pressure. That wasn’t prey behavior. That was… something else. And suddenly I wish she hadn’t left.

“Enough about that. We have work to do,” I state, mostly to myself. “Let’s get going.”

The station is dark and even less clean than the previous one. There’s a constant grinding noise from a life support system that’s in desperate need of maintenance, and the air is thick with ammonia. That doesn’t surprise me — this area of space is home to several species that breathe exotic gasses.

“What would Archmagus Yomeran be doing in a place like this?” Cerak asks, rolling along beside me. “Is he making a tour of the worst stations in space?”

“The Fire Mages are known for being strange,” I tell him as we make our way into the station proper and I look around. To my annoyance I realize I’m looking for Maeve, even hoping to spot her. “It’s usually not worth it to ask them why they do things.”

There’s a lot of aliens here, of many species and configurations. These are stranger than the ones in Pranst Station, and they smell worse, milling around and carrying out their business.

“This station is owned by a criminal gang,” I remind Cerak. “It’s not just an anarchy free-for-all, like Pranst. It’s someone’s fortress. We should be discreet.”

Cerak snorts. “I don’t think you could be discreet even if you tried. Those wings tend to attract attention.”

He’s right. As always, all eyes and various other sensory organs are on me, and the noise of the hustle and bustle is reduced to a whisper when I’m spotted.

“Might as well make use of it,” I mutter. “Greetings, good people!” I roar. “I am looking for someone who has been here or might still be. He looks like me, but without the wings. And where I am blue, he is orange! I will pay for any information about him. Thank you.”

They all stare at me for a short moment, then return to their activities. The noise returns to its original level.

“That’s one way to do it,” Cerak says. “Of course, now the whole galaxy knows you’re looking for him, and everyone on Eo will understand why.”

“Let them understand,” I growl as we walk through the crowd. “I want my enemies to know I’m coming for them.” Maeve’s bravery in defending the reputation of her people has inspired me to be less timid about my task.

“Conventional wisdom would suggest it’s better tosurpriseone’s enemies than to warn them,” the metal cylinder says in his tinny voice. “And it’s not what you said just a while ago. But I’m sure you know what you’re doing. Shall we search the station?”

I make my way around a strange, many-armed creature that has some trouble moving along the smooth floor. “I don’t expect him to be in the most crowded place of the station. There must be other sections.”

“Oh, there are,” Cerak says. “Do you know why it’s called Maranar Labs, and not Maranar Station or Maranar Base or something like that?”

“Not really.”

We find a random corridor that leads away from the main market space. I walk slowly on purpose — if someone from that crowd actually has information about the archmagus, they may not want to give it to me in full view of everyone else. If for no other reason that this is a place where being known as an informer could be a major problem.

“This place was built as a science laboratory, way back,” Cerak tells me. “Crazy scientists from all over this region of space came here to do all kinds of experiments that were outlawed on their own planets. Most of them died, of course. There was usually a really good reason why their projects were banned, usually that they were either deadly or stupid. Or, most commonly, both. Still many parts of this base are closed off because some of thoseexperiments are still running. They can’t be shut off, and trying to do so will probably kill you. This station was for sale for the longest time with nobody interested.”

“And so the criminal gang moved in and took it over,” I muse. “At least there’s some commerce taking place here now.”

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