Page 5 of Captured
Decloui was… different.
The Director had come to the station to speak with Gra’ar about the assignment, and while he’d mentioned that Gra’ar was chosen because he was uniquely suited to the task, Gra’ar didn’t understand the reference until he looked out the window during the shuttle’s decent.
He’d never seen such a vast expanse of architecture. There wasn’t a single place he could see from the shuttle that he’d call ‘natural’. The only spots of green were planters placed along the openings that lead down to other levels and a few plots located around the larger homes.
Gra’ar had heard of Decloui’s strange structure, of course, but it was another thing to see it. Miles and miles of buildings with Gliders zipping along the spaces between them. The lower levels would be even worse with the artificial ground of the level above them creating a ceiling that blocked the sky. While he wasn’t averse to the dark he’d find as he moved down, the lack of an open sky to fly in made the muscles in his back twitch.
He disembarked from the shuttle once it touched down. While he’d have preferred to fly, he didn’t know exactly where the Collection Center was, so he tossed his pack in a waiting Glider and typed in the coordinates his Commander had given him after he finished reading the assignment file. Technically on leave, he’d been reminded he had no backup to cover anything that happened, and he needed to keep things quiet. Apparently he tended to make a mess, and they were worried about letting him loose.
Gra’ar smiled to himself as the Glider slipped beneath Top-Level. His Commander probably had reason to be worried about him, but he doubted one little omega would give him that much trouble. He wasn’t expecting to be on Decloui for more than a day or two. He’d fly down and check the lower levels, locate her, then return her to the Collection Center.
A brothel sign flashed as the Glider descended past the third level, catching his attention.
Maybe he’d stay a day or two longer. Enjoy his leave before returning to the station. Prostitution was one of those things that were overlooked on the planets that allowed it, but wasn’t allowed on military facilities. It had been a long time since he’d had a break from missions long enough to do more than sleep and recover.
The Glider leveled out and began moving along the streets of Fourth-Level. The buildings here were still in good condition besides a bit of minor neglect, but the level sported no greenery. Many of the large properties that had been owned by the rich when it was Top-Level had been claimed by corporations and converted into factories. Other homes had been demolished to build apartments for the workers, leaving the entire level feeling drab and utilitarian. He could see why people would want to move to the upper levels besides the lack of sunlight.
Gra’ar peered down, trying to get a glimpse of the level below, but it was too dark to make out anything with the lights around him shining in his eyes. There were enough bulbs to keep the level clear, but it was still dimmer than the top two levels had been, so he opened his hind eyes.
Many didn’t realize his kind had a second set located beside the first since they were usually kept closed. The eyelids looked like nothing more than another unusual feature on an already strange face. With ridges along his cheekbones and small horns adorning his brow, not to mention the ones curling back from his temples, there was too much to notice to wonder what an extra wrinkle was.
He looked down again, able to make out some of the larger buildings below but still unable to see details through the glare. His hind eyes were better in the dark, but too much light caused a gleam that would shortly have his head throbbing if he kept them open.
Relaxing back into the seat, he shuffled his wings into a more comfortable position and closed all four eyes. The screen on the Glider said he still had time before he made it to the Collection Center, so it was better to rest while he had the chance. He wouldn’t stop to do so again once he picked up the chase.
***
The gentle bump of the Glider docking with the sidewalk alerted him to his arrival even before the electronic voice made the announcement. Shaking his head to clear the haze of sleep, Gra’ar grabbed his pack and climbed out, eyeing the soldier guarding the gate in front of him.
It was surprising to see a fence around a Collection Center. There was usually a small group of soldiers stationed in the buildings for protection and such, but the buildings were meant to be approachable. It was hard enough to get people to follow the rules and turn themselves in without making the place look like a prison.
“I’m here for the Director.”
The guard gave him a once-over, eyes lingering on Gra’ar’s wings before grabbing a tablet from inside the little shack he’d sat in.
“Name?”
“Gra’ar Zukarie.”
The man typed something on his little pad and waited for a moment before looking up and giving Gra’ar a nod.
“He’s waiting for you. The receptionist inside will show you to his office.”
Gra’ar tipped his head in return as the man moved aside and the gate behind him slid back. There was a path leading to the only set of doors on this side of the building, so it was obvious where to head.
He was shocked once again when he walked through the doors and was confronted with the woman standing beside the desk. Her antennae and multifaceted eyes were unusual enough, but the split jaw was only seen in purebred Lohofia, a species from his home planet that rarely left since their eyes were even more sensitive to light than his. He didn’t know how she could stand even the artificial light of the room.
“Greetings. I will take you to Director Devereux.”
The voice came from a little speaker beside her computer as she motioned for Gra’ar to follow. She didn’t give him time to respond before she turned and stepped through the door behind her. Falling in step, he tucked his curiosity aside as they made their way down a hallway lined with doors.
The overall scent of the building was stale and old, worse than it had been outside. He knew there were air scrubbers on each level of the planet, and each building would have one as well, but with the level above trapping most of the air it was impossible to keep things fresh.
Still, under the scent of the building and what he picked up from his escort, the smell of omegas lingered in the hall. Alpha pheromones were stronger, but the sweetness was there, a tickle in the back of his throat that had his instincts stirring.
When they reached the end the woman leading him stopped and knocked on a closed door. Many of the ones they had passed had been open, revealing small meeting rooms, but this must be the Director’s office.
“Many thanks,” Gra’ar said to the woman in her language. His pronunciation was rusty, his throat unused to creating the clicks and chirps the Lohofia used to communicate, but he could tell she understood him when her jaw gapped in a grin.
