Page 6 of Shielded Heart

After a few seconds of silence, she peered around the doorframe. The door across the hall—Rakkob’s door—was closed. She leaned out and looked up and down the corridor.

Empty.

Releasing a relieved breath, Samantha slipped out of her room, waved her wrist in front of the scanner on the wall—which was programmed to respond only toherConsortium-implanted identification chip—and hurried down the hallway once her door was closed.

Her anxiety grew when she entered the elevator, which wasnotempty. She eased to the back, nestling herself in the corner with shoulders hunched and head bowed as aliens entered and exited on almost every one of the twenty floors on the way to ground level. Some were silent, others chatty and boisterous, and several stared at Sam curiously when they noticed her.

She wiped her sweat-dampened palms on her pants. She’d never been surrounded by such a diverse crowd. Several alien species had become commonplace on Earth—primarily volturians, azhera, vorgals, and borians—but there were more peoples on Arthos than she could count. They were all so different from each other, so different fromher, that she couldn’t help but feel as thoughshewere the strange one.

Once the elevator finally reached the ground floor, Sam quietly followed the large group into the lobby and proceeded out onto the Undercity streets. It was by far the most unusual place she’d ever been—not that she’d traveled very far from her hometown before this—and she wasn’t sure if she’d ever get used to it. Everything was enclosed here. There was no sky, no clouds, no moon or stars, only an uneven ceiling riddled with catwalks and supports high overhead. Day and night didn’t exist here; the Undercity ran nonstop, never slowing, never quieting.

The city above the surface was just as busy, but at least there was a sky and natural light up there. The Undercity was lit primarily by neon lights and pulsing holograms. She’d never thought she would miss the sun—her pasty complexion was a clear indicator of her lack of a relationship with it—but she had a feeling she would grow desperate for its warmth after long enough down here.

Samantha did her best to study her surroundings, noting anything particularly unusual she could rely on as a landmark. Though her breathing had eased since leaving the tight confines of the apartment complex, her anxiety had not. It would be so easy to get lost in the crowd, so easy tovanish; there were many beings near her size or smaller, and many, many more who were big enough to make her feel like a child.

She eventually worked her way through the flow of bodies to reach the outskirts of the crowd. The streets were lined with food stands, merchant booths, and storefronts. Standing on her toes, she strained to see over the heads and shoulders of the nearby aliens and get a better idea of her surroundings. It all seemed so big, so impossible; a dark shroud of doubt settled over her mind.

No, I candothis. I just…just need to go talk to people.

Sam approached a booth with shelves of footwear on display, seeking out the owner—she assumed it was the dacrethian kneeling before a volturian male, holding a pair of shoes in each of his four hands.

Samantha cleared her throat. “Um, hello?”

The dacrethian and the volturian continued their conversation without acknowledging her. They probably hadn’t even heard her meek voice considering all the noise from the bustling street.

Sam brought her hands up to her middle and nervously clasped her fingers together.

“Hello?” she said a little louder.

Their conversation ceased. The volturian lifted his faintly glowing blue eyes to meet Samantha’s; there was only coldness in his gaze.

The dacrethian twisted his torso to look at her and said in Universal Speech, “Yes?”

Samantha swallowed and forced a smile. “Hi. I was…wondering if you were hiring?”

The dacrethian’s gaze dipped to trail over her body before returning to her eyes. “No.”

He turned back toward the volturian.

“Nothing?” Sam asked. “I don’t mind doing tedious jobs. I—”

“Are you here to buy?” the dacrethian asked.

Sam frowned and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “No. I’m look—”

“Then leave.”

Ouch. Guess I’m dismissed.

The volturian, now smirking, stared at her a moment longer before looking down at the shoes the dacrethian presented to him.

With a sigh, Samantha left the booth and returned to the crowd.

She visited a long string of shops and booths. Despite the diversity of their wares and operators, most of the people she spoke with reacted similarly—they gave her a once-over, found her somehow lacking, and sent her away.

Her discouragement was so deep that she was caught completely off-guard when someone said in a deep voice, “I can put you to work, terran.”

Samantha’s heart skipped a beat, and she turned to find a bulky, shirtless vorgal with black,movingtattoos depicting various beasts looking at her.

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