Page 19 of Alien Haven

Groteg exchanged a glance with Sara, who crooked a brow. The Nobek sighed. “Sure. Keep close to your friends and you’ll be fine.”

She gave the pair her best smile. “Thanks for everything. You know, your kids are lucky to have you guys for parents.”

“Remind them of it every opportunity you get,” Sara chuckled. “Have a good time.”

As Charity bounced down the stairs, she thought even if Haven were Planet Farm Hell, it had its decent points. Clan Amgar was at the top of the list.

* * * *

An hour after arriving at Bar, Bowl, and Barrel, Charity was less enthused about her night out. In fact, she was thinking of heading back to the farm early.

It wasn’t because the place was awful. The club portion was little more than a shitkicker bar full of fieldhands taking the edge off a long day of farming, cleaning stalls, riding the range, and whatever else farm types did. It was far nicer than the Roadhouse. It had an actual floor, no sawdust, and a blessed lack of urine scent. It boasted a few pool tables, a vid-game room, and a few spaces between tables big enough to allow Earther couples to dance if they were able or rock in each other’s arms if they weren’t so light-footed.

The attached bowling alley was decent, but Charity’s dress was hardly the right outfit for playing a few frames. The lanes were crowded to capacity anyway, full of serious teams and fun-seeking families.

The fight pit at the back of the building, reserved strictly for Nobeks who wanted to spar, gave Charity a moment’s pause. Her nerves settled…a little…after she read the warning signs. One declared no Nobek who’d had more than ten bottles of kloq, five of bohut, or eight shots of whiskey would be allowed to participate. Another sign proclaimed intent to do serious bodily harm would result in offenders being arrested and permanently banned from the premises.

A civilized shitkicker bar, Charity surmised. Fair enough.

Bar, Bowl, and Barrel was fine. Her problem was Ilid. The young man had displayed uneasiness upon entering the bar, and it hadn’t diminished despite the laidback atmosphere. She couldn’t figure out what his problem was. There were plenty of his fellow Kalquorians present. The Earthers mixed easily among them. There was no sign of speciesism to be seen as the two races laughed and conversed together like the longtime friendly acquaintances they apparently were. Earther women and a couple human men who were obviously in romantic relationships with Kalquorians in singles and multiples, weren’t looked at twice except when someone hailed them in affable recognition.

Despite the congenial atmosphere, Charity noted Ilid was damned near ill from discomfort. He tried to hide it behind a front of warm conversation. He paid plenty of attention to her. However, his gaze darted here and there, as if searching for trouble…or an enemy. He jumped at sudden bursts of laughter. When someone dropped a bottle, which shattered on the floor, he’d nearly flown from his tall stool at their small table, his eyes on the exit and hand reaching for her arm. It was as if he’d been prompted to escape and take her with him. His embarrassed laughter and fumbling apology for being startled couldn’t hide how he refused to meet her gaze…or the flash of sickened shame in his expression.

Maybe he’s ill.He’d tried his first pizza at her suggestion. He’d declared it delicious. There’d been a few families, including Kalquorians, in the restaurant they’d gone to before the bar. The aliens had been having pizza for dinner too, tucking in as if they’d eaten it a gazillion times before. Still, Ilid wasn’t used to Earther food. Maybe it hadn’t agreed with him, though he’d said he was fine when she’d asked.

Charity had no idea why Ilid wasn’t having fun. The thought it might be her fault was unpleasant to consider. She cast aboutin her head what she might have said or done to upset him. Her desperate chatter fell silent as she ran out of things to say.

“We have a couple of guys coming our way, looking right at us,” Ilid noted following a couple of seconds of silence, during which he’d continued to scan the dimly lit environs. “They appear to be a Nobek and an Imdiko.”

Charity turned, relieved for any distraction. Her gaze lit on the most charming smile she’d ever encountered. It came from a sweet-faced man who was definitely of the nurturing Imdiko breed. Next to him brooded the reluctant expression of Nobek Detodev, whom the cheerful fellow pulled along by the wrist.

“The Nobek is the effervescent fieldhand I mentioned to you. Doesn’t he look thrilled and ready to party?” she bubbled to Ilid, loud so the nearing pair could hear her teasing. “Hi, Detodev! So nice to see your smiling face. Who’s your friend?”

The Imdiko sketched a quick bow before charging forward to offer his hand for her to shake. “Imdiko Mitag, Matara Jennifer. Detodev told me you’re staying at Clan Amgar’s farm. So nice to meet you.”

Relief warred against delight for supremacy. Mitag was full of energetic personality. The night might be saved. “And to meet you. This is my friend, Dramok Ilid. His family’s thinking of buying the bakery in town. He’ll manage it if they do.”

The three Kalquorians exchanged bows. Mitag fairly danced in excitement. “I’m glad I ignored the urge for an early night to come out. I was hoping to run into Detodev, which I obviously did. Now I get to make new friends. Dramok Ilid, welcome to Haven. When did you arrive? How do you like it so far?”

“It’s beautiful.” Ilid’s worried expression eased slightly under the barrage of Mitag’s enthusiasm. “So much wide-open space.”

“It has that, all right,” the Imdiko chuckled. “Did you two come to the planet together?”

“By accident.” Charity warmed to his friendliness. She ogled his gorgeous features, far more delicate and sharper than Ilid’s or Detodev’s. His tousled black hair, which grew past his shoulders, was messy in the most stylish manner possible. He was dressed in a simple but well-cut shirt and trousers, making Charity glad she’d slipped on the sheath dress and heels despite the bar’s decidedly un-fancy environment. His admiring regard bolstered her confidence.

“We were brought here on the same ship and struck up a friendship.” Ilid’s smile grew as he glanced at Charity an instant before his scrutiny skittered at their surroundings.

Okay, so it isn’t me bothering him.She knew it was selfish, but Charity was too relieved to worry overmuch about what was stealing Ilid’s ease of mind.

She directed her attention to the silent Nobek who stood slightly apart from them. His sharp stare was intent, particularly on Ilid. “Hey, quit hogging the spotlight, Detodev. It isn’t all about you.”

Mitag laughed. “He’s definitely the strong, silent type. If it weren’t for me, he’d lack any manners. Say hello, Detodev. The night just got interesting.”

“Interesting is what you call it?” The brooding figure stepped closer. “Hello again, Jennifer. A pleasure to meet you, Dramok Ilid.”

For a moment, Ilid avoided his regard, though he gazed in his direction. He seemed to peer over the larger man’s shoulder. Then he nodded to the Nobek. “And you, Detodev. Jennifer told me you recommended this bar.”

“You don’t seem particularly enthused by it. Or you’re searching for someone whom you’d rather not run into.”

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