“This is The Seeker,” Aileena said rolling her eyes, “requesting permission to land.” The wave wobbled in response. “Confirmed, proceeding to coordinates, thanks control.” The ship turned, banking around a domed building made of glittering gold.
“This place is amazing, I actually can’t wait to look around,” Michael said.
“You aren’t going anywhere. I’m not going to let my payday wander around where he might get himself killed. This place looks flashy but it’s a right dive. Remember, it’s full of pirates.” Aileena was scowling, though her face remained locked on the console in front of her, hands clutching the controls.
“You said pirates were awesome! Come on. You kidnapped me. I’ve been shot at more in the last twenty-four hours than I ever have. I can at least get to see the alien planet you’ve dragged me to.” Brekt let out a series of low rumbles, prompting Aileena to groan loudly.
“Not you as well? Mellok, talk some sense into these two.”
“Oh no,” Mellok said. “I agree. He is the knower, if he thinks he should visit this world, then who am I to argue?”
“See, whilst I still don’t get the whole knower thing, Mellok’s cool with it. We’ll be fine, we can just bring our weapons, and load up on those force field grenades just in case.” Michael was stretching his arms, adjusting his jacket excitedly.
“Nope. We can’t. No guns on Ossiark, it’s one of their very few rules. Dread to think what the casualty rates here would look like if that was the case. Besides I had one of those grenades. One. Rare as domestic fowl teeth,” Aileena said, the translator aiming for the word hen but failing.
Mellok tapped one of his forelegs on the ground, clearly lost in thought. “We will need to be prepared, in some capacity anyway. Remember we’re here for supplies. We need to gather what we can for the journey ahead. But, first things first.” He spun around, his feet scuttling in a perfect circle. “Your hands please.”
“Oh no. No way, stay the hell out of my head.” Aileena tried to leap from her seat, her still locked belts pulling her back.
“You want to rely on that gadget forever? You know It’ll be useful once we disembark. That thing will struggle. Come on, if we’re going to be stuck together for a while, might as well get it over with.” Mellok held out one of his hands outstretched. Michael looked at the hand, it was thick with thousands of tiny fine rainbow feathers, covering an otherwise normal-looking body part. Five fingers and an opposable thumb. “You as well please, knower,” Mellok said, raising his other hand. Brekt said nothing, simply, placing his fingers onto Mellok’s outstretched palm. Michael copied him and placed his own next to Brekt’s.
“Fine, fine. But when we’re done, I want you to shut it down. No hanging on longer than necessary.”
“You have my word. Now if you please.” Mellok shook his free hand with a flourish. Aileena surrendered, placing her own fingers onto Mellok’s hand. Her dark green nails caught the light, oddly well-groomed for a mercenary. Mellok closed his eyes for a second, and when he reopened them, they blazed with orange light. It flooded the control room, casting a warm glow. Michael felt something clawing at the back of his mind, a faint numbness trickling in through the top of his spine. Then, along with the light, it was gone. Mellok dropped his hands, clasping them together in front of himself. “There we go, painless. And after all that protesting.”
“You can really be a big baby sometimes, Aileena, you know that?” Brekt said. Michael jumped in shock. The great wall of green muscle was not only speaking English, but his voice was oddly soft, the kind of gentle lilt reserved for people who were so massively huge they needed no help from their voice to intimidate.
“I’m sorry, you can talk?” Michael said.
“Well, yes, of course I can talk. But you knew that Michael, be reasonable now. This is Mellok’s doing, a little bit of uh, psychic translation. Perfectly harmless.” The giant smiled.
“And you didn’t do this before because?” Michael said turning to Mellok.
“Well, we were busy. With the Council and all. That and its good practice to get used to the translators. There isn’t always a Cortican around. We are very much in demand because of this ability.”
Aileena tossed the translator across the room with a flick, sending it careening into the couches at the back, the gel catching the metal box. “It does involve him weaselling his way into your mind.” Her voice was oddly the same as the one generated by the translator. Michael wondered if Mellok was doing that to make it as easy as possible for him, or if the translator was really that good.
“Be at ease, it is only a slight connection. I cannot read your thoughts or anything along those lines. Just language services that is all. I shall act as a relay of sorts, your own mobile translator.” He turned back towards Michael. “It has a significant range, more than enough to suit our needs. I fear we may need to split up to work as quickly as we can. I would rather not tarry here.”
“Uh, yes, about that,” Brekt said. “We, uh, don’t actually have any money to get supplies.”
“I’ve got a little,” Aileena said. “It was supposed to have been payment for our trip out of Earth, a smugglers fee for you, me and Vergil. I brought it in case our feathered friend stiffed us and left us stranded.” Her eyes squinted at Mellok. “If I give you half, think you can go win us up some more?”
“Yeah, you know me. I’m an, uh, wiz at the tables. I’ll get us a little more.”
“Wait, we’re going to go and gamble? That’s the plan? We’re going to try and win ourselves enough money?” Michael was grinning from ear to ear.
“That’s the gist yeah,” Brekt said smiling back. “Want to come, little man? Try your hand at some games.”
“Hell yes.”
It was almost overwhelming, the array of different races walking past. Some looked almost human, although their skin colours varied, running the scales from pastel pinks to vibrant blues. Others were stranger, multilimbed insectoids walking arms locked with what appeared to be sentient slime, an odd sort of weasel creature dashing past on far too many legs. Something rumbled past, some shelled alien that moved around by rolling, like a giant woodlouse.
Michael had his hands in the pockets of his stained jacket, hand wrapped around a black plastic oval. Mellok had given one to each of them, a key to the now locked ship. It looked exactly like the remote key fob to any earth car, something that didn’t inspire confidence in the Seekers security. Michaels mind flashed back to the defensive turrets unfurling, their beams lancing across that dark football pitch. Perhaps the ship will be fine, he thought.
Brekt whistled. “Check that out, earth man,” he said gesturing to the window they were walking past. Aileena and Mellok had headed off in the other direction, taking half the money to at least guarantee some supplies. The window had a large white room behind it, brightly lit. Within a female alien was gyrating around a pole. Michael was sure she was female, the outfit she was wearing leaving little to the imagination, aside from a veil she wore over her face. She noticed Michael staring, stopping her routine to give a slight wave. She lifted her veil, revealing a horrid ring of fangs set around a lashing tongue. The dancer blew a kiss, her lamprey-like face pulsing in an unsettling way.
“Maybe… maybe later,” Michael said, his head snapping forward. “Let’s go try and win some money why don’t we?”
Chapter Eight
Aileena led the way, Mellok trailing close behind her, nipping at her ankles. She had convinced him to come with her, despite his obvious nervousness at leaving his messiah to wander off into the tunnels and corridors of Ossiark. Aileena had been insistent however, Mellok’s race had a natural knack for negotiating, and whilst she loathed to stereotype an entire people in that way, the Cortican hadn’t disagreed.