“Great. Thanks.” Mathiras’s voice is openly sarcastic. He turns to me. “Shall we go, then?”
“Yes!” I give his arm a squeeze. “I’m ready!”
“Oh, I noticed,” he breathes, voice low enough that only I can hear it. “Come on, then. I promised you a date, didn’t I?”
The other station employee gives us a look of sheer disgust, and it hurts my feelings. Then I remember I’m disguised. Oh. It must not be a pretty disguise, or maybe mesakkah don’t normally date ooli. I hope Mathiras doesn’t mind that I’m ugly tonight. I kind of wanted to be pretty for our first date. Maybe this is better, though. If no one’s looking at us because I’m not a qura’aki, maybe we can be more free to kiss and cuddle.
That’s what dates are for, right? Kissing?
If so, I am more than ready for my first date.
CHAPTER 28
MATHIRAS
Helen is always surprising me. She’s lucky I’m better at hiding my emotions than Adiron, because I nearly lost it when a tall ooli showed up on my ship. But she’s clever, all right. She must have gotten the disguise back in Port and not said a thing to anyone. I’m not sure how her identification scan didn’t flag her as a qura’aki but I’ll ask some other time. Right now I just need to get Helen away from the Little Sister and the Haal Ui employees combing through her looking for a reason to arrest us.
We head down the ramp and cut through the busy station docks, and I try not to hover over her too much. It’s a losing battle, of course. Everywhere I look, it’s dangerous. There are aliens of every kind, shoulder to shoulder inside the busy station. Most of them are rough, and most of them are also male, because this place is a hotbed of pirates and lowlifes. Unfortunately, it’s also where we need to go to conduct our business. I put a hand on Helen’s back, easing her toward the flashing sign that welcomes us to the station. “Stay close to me, all right? Whatever you do, don’t leave my side. I mean it.”
“I won’t leave,” she promises. “I’m your bodyguard.” Her ooli eyes widen. “Oh look! What’s that?”
She grabs my hand and hauls me through the crowd, leaving me no choice but to follow. A moment later, we come to a stop in front of a fruit stand, where a four-armed mazu juggles slices of melon in his pincers and tosses them into a decorative cup. Helen watches, her mouth hanging open with rapt pleasure, and when the mazu tops off the cup with a flower-shaped berry, she squeals and claps her hands in delight. “That was incredible! Can you do it again?”
The vendor laughs. “I will be doing it all day, female. It’s my job. Buy a cup of fruit?” He holds it out to her.
“Oh.” Her face falls and she gives me a reluctant look. Funny how that mask can make her look like an ooli and yet somehow manages to convey all her emotions. “I’m afraid not. I don’t have credits of my own, and we’re here on business.”
That irks me. Does Helen think I won’t buy her a simple cup of fruit? Am I truly that terrible to be around? Biting back my frown, I pull out a handful of unmarked credits and hold them out to the vendor. “Two cups. And give the lady a real show this time, hmm?”
Laughing, the vendor tosses more fruit into the air, starting his act once more. Helen clings to my arm, her eyes locked on the vendor, but I can tell she’s pleased. It’s such a simple thing to please her, and I wonder why I’ve been fighting it for so long. She should be spoiled, I decide. Every day for Helen should be an incredible one filled with joy. She deserves that. She deserves the best the universe can offer her.
Once the juggling display is over, Helen claps again, and then clutches her cup of fruit as I take mine. She shoves the flower-shaped berry into her mouth, her eyes bright as she looks over at the next booth. “Oh wow! Look at that! He’s got animals in cages!”
“Helen,” I warn before she can rush over. I put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. Not just because we can’t stop at every vendor stall on the station, but because I know that particular one won’t be a good experience for her. I don’t want to tell her that people pick the animal so the cook can make it fresh. “Let’s go enjoy our fruit somewhere quieter, hmm?”
She gives the booth a longing look but nods. “I’m sorry, Mathiras,” she tells me as I guide her down the hall. It’s bustling with people, and we need to get away from the thickest part of the shopping zone. The station’s narrow halls open up into the shopping atrium, and from there, things are a little less congested. More booths and tents—some vendors selling wares just on a blanket tossed on the floor—line the corridors of the station. I’m used to it, because I know stations are trading hubs for everyone looking to make a quick credit with what they’ve acquired (or stolen) but I can see it all being exciting for Helen. I’m just glad she’s not scared at the crush of people. She looks up at me, her ooli features jarring. “This is all just exciting to see!”