Page 11 of Uprooted
I’m going to be a good friend and go with her. I’ll brave the grimy station, but I draw the line at eating station meat. It might be my last chance to eat something other than noodles, but I’d rather be safe than sorry. I don’t want to spend the rest of the trip hunched over a toilet.
Green lights flash overhead, giving us the go-ahead to exit the shuttle. That’s my signal—let’s get this over with. I’m hoping Bri will take one look around and come running back to our shuttle. She is about to realize there are worse things than cabin fever.
“Finally! Let’s go. I’m so excited.” She’s bouncing when she finds me in the hall.
I can smell the station before we even step onboard. It’s a combination of malfunctioning air filters, something fermenting, and decadesof grime, deposited by the thousands of different species who pass through.
“Wow! Okay. You weren’t lying,” Bri says and covers her nose.
“Let’s just take a quick walk-through—then we come back.” I’m well aware of my shitty attitude, and I have no plans to act any differently. Right now, I could be walking under a clear sky, fresh air, and solid ground. Instead, I’m holding my breath as we step over the threshold.I wonder if Bri realizes that the deteriorating tunnel we’ve entered is the only thing standing between us and being vacced out into space.
“Is this place going to have any redeeming qualities?” she asks, dodging a pile of garbage propped against the wall. Half-empty noodle containers teeter on top of each other, waiting for someone to tip the whole disgusting tower over. The wall it's relying on doesn't look good either. The metal has started to rust at the seams, and empty holes dot the length where screws should be to hold it in place. At one point in the distant past, the wall was probably smooth and shiny. Now it's rusted, dented, and looks like it could fail at any moment.
“Probably not. This place is disgusting. I’m going to need a round of antibiotics after this,” I say and step over a heap of metal that appears to have been a mechanic bot.
“Someone’s in a bad mood today,” Bri points out.
“I really needed fresh air.”
A long line of aliens is at the fueling window in the center of the hub, each waiting for their turn to purchase fuel. They all seem as eager as I do to get off this heap of metal floating in space. Many are hunched over so their heads don't hit the low roof. This station was not built to accommodate its current clientele of giant aliens.
Across the hub, a neon sign flickers over a doorway. Its bright lights attempt to spell out “dive bar” with an R that ran out of neon decades ago.
Bri looks at me. “After you.” I motion for her to go in first. She can confront whatever terrifying scene we are walking into.
Bri walks through the door without hesitation and I reluctantly follow her in. I’m not able to see much as my eyes adjust to the darkness.
A wall of colored glass bottles comes into focus along with a tentacled Pyrrion pouring drinks and wiping down the bar top. All nineof their long arms work independently to serve the crowded bar. The fermenting smell is absolutely coming from here and there is no way I am eating or drinking anything from this place.
“Elowen? Elowen Carson, is that you?” I hear my name come from a dark alcove at the other end of the bar. Whoever said it sounds like they’ve already been in the bar for a while. Frantically, I try to decide between bolting from this place and figuring out who could possibly know me here. As if she can read my mind, Bri steps closer to my side and hugs my arm to her body, locking me in place. Or maybe she’s finally starting to appreciate the reality of where we are and doesn’t want to get left behind.
A short figure with a hairless head, large wide-set black eyes, and a small mouth bracketed by two small tusks comes into view. In this dark room it’s hard to see exactly who is coming my way, but I can tell it’s a Na’Lorskan female. Her clothes are a little worse for wear, and she’s missing the traditional headscarf worn on her planet. Who is that?
I cling to Bri just as tightly. Whatever is happening, we are in this together. In fact, I partially blame her. I hear my name again and still don’t recognize the voice it’s coming from. Our soon-to-be attacker roughly knocks over a chair in her rush to get to us. I turn towards the door to flee when I’m wrapped into a tight hug from two boney arms.
“Get back here, Elowen—it’s me! It’s Priya!” she says.
“Priya? No way!” I’m shocked to see her. It takes a second, but I finally recognize her familiar face. She hasn’t changed much at all since I last saw her more than a decade ago. But in this awful place far from her home planet and in these clothes, I could have walked by and never realized I had missed my closest childhood friend.
“Bri, this is Priya. She is one of my oldest friends.”
They exchange introductions and Priya wraps me in another tight hug, the top of her head only coming up to my chest. I step back and look at her, still in complete shock.
“What are you doing here?” she asks.
“We’re on our way to j'Tilak. What areyoudoing here? Shouldn’t you be on some gilded throne writing decrees?” Priya is the Na’Lorskan chancellor’s daughter. When we were young I loved to tease her about her royal lineage.
“You know we don’t have any thrones.” A dozen heads turn towards us at her booming laugh. She’s always been loud for such a small thing. “I’m an ambassador now. Our system is formalizing some trade procedures, and the duty fell to me,” she says.
Even though so much has changed, it feels like no time has passed since we last saw each other.
“Why aren’t you at one of those luxury fueling stations? The ones with, you know… stuff?” I ask.
“Don’t insult me. I am a woman of the people. Come have a drink. It’s going to be a while before any of us get any fuel.”
The three of us squeeze between tightly packed tables, earning a few grunts from the other patrons when we bump our way through. At Priya’s table, I take the seat facing the room. There is no way I am turning my back on this place. The seat cushion is cracked and the broken chair pitches me forward awkwardly.
It seems like I’m the only one bothered by the dilapidated state of the bar. Bri and Priya look like they are having the time of their lives. Priya swipes in an order of drinks for us on the menu screen. Seconds later, a long Pyrrion tentacle extends and drops the drinks off on our table. I’m surprised by how quickly we get served. Priya must have already generously tipped the bartender. I skeptically watch mine, not sure I want to chance fate by drinking it.
