Chapter Thirty-Seven

“Out of the question. Elara is meant to be distancing herself from the Syldrari Sector to alleviate suspicions.” Zafir’s firm voice drifted down the hall to me, piquing my curiosity.

“And your decision has been overruled. I need her.” A woman’s voice spoke in calm, measured tones. I peeked around the corner to spot a human woman with dark skin and hair of many small, adorned braids. She wore a pantsuit and low heels, along with some pieces of jewelry that looked more like tech than ‘pretty shiny things.’

I considered my options for a moment, before sighing, straightening, and walking out from the hallway. “You ‘need me?’ I’m right here, but I’m getting breakfast first.”

The pair of them stared at me in surprise as I walked past, both seeming to register at the same time that I was wearing Syldrari clothes.

“Elara, I know you have nothing else to wear but—”

“See? She will make a perfect ambassador! She’s adopting their aesthetics, learning about their culture and mannerisms—gaining their trust!” The woman rounded on Zafir. “All of which I’ve been unable to do! I can’t step foot into the Syldrari Sector without drawing suspicion—with or without an escort!”

“You say that like they weren’t suspicious of me,” I remarked.

“You got through, so clearly they—”

“They were suspicious of me. I didn’t care.” I shook my head and kept walking toward the kitchen. “Being the usual frightened little human isn’t how you get to know the Syldrari, Miss…uh…?”

“Ambassador Nomusa,” the woman quickly hurried to follow me. “Just Nomusa. I cast off surnames ages ago. Never liked the practice.”

“And what, exactly, is it that you ‘need’ me for?” I asked as I rummaged around in the fridge for something easy to make.

“I’ve been trying to make connections in the Syldrari Sector ever since I took over as Ambassador,” Nomusa began eagerly. “Clan V’shir’s relationship with my predecessor fell apart a few years before I replaced him. Since then, the empire’s understanding of the Syldrari has waned while their fear has risen. I want to close that gap before the empire does something stupid.”

“Crowe briefed her on our suspicions of ‘purists’ within the Imperator’s inner circle causing…problems,” Zafir offered as he leaned against the doorway. “This accelerated her timeline, she believes.”

“I know the empire, professor,” Nomusa stated, turning to glare at Zafir. “The moment they convince the Imperator the Syldrari are a threat, they’ll fire their strongest weapons at the Syldrari Sector and all orbiting Syldrari ships. It’s my job to keep it from coming to that.”

“So you want me to get you into the Syldrari Sector and introduce you to people?” I sighed. “Like that’s going to be enough.”

“No, I want you to work with me directly on this project. I want you to introduce me to the V’shir, certainly, but it’s going to take hard work on both our parts to mend the wounds my predecessor left.” Nomusa stared back at me with fiery eyes. “I won’t stand idle and let countless Syldrari lives be lost!”

I glanced over her shoulder at Zafir, who had taken to rubbing his chin in thought. After a moment, he nodded to me and I let out a small sigh. “Fine—we can see how it goes over. After I eat—”

“You’ll just be going to Rel’s anyway. Pick up breakfast there,” Zafir commented, an amused smile spreading across his face. “If Ambassador Nomusa is serious, she will have to learn to enjoy—or at least tolerate—Syldrari food and the scents.”

“Uh…?” Nomusa glanced between us questioningly.

“Most humans consider it ‘an acquired taste.’” I shook my head and shut the fridge. “Syldrari taste things differently…hmmm. Here, have a ludrán. It’s a Syldrari candy.”

I offered Nomusa a bright red ludrán from my pocket, which she carefully unwrapped before giving it a tentative sniff. As she hesitated, I preemptively poured a glass of milk for her.

“It doesn’t taste that—” Nomusa cut herself off with a sound of pain and strangulation, then began fanning her mouth. I handed her the glass of milk, which she knocked back like it was a damn shot.

“Sweet and fruity, to a Syldrari.” I informed her, walking past. “I’ll try to convince Rel to go easy on you, but he enjoys testing his food on non-Syldrari. He finds their varied reactions fascinating.”

“Sweet…that… how ?” Nomusa chased after me, faint beads of sweat on her forehead. “Even my mother’s cooking isn’t that hot!”

“Well, there’s many reasons. Uh…” I eyed her. “Perhaps I should explain on our way there? Do you have a driver?”

“Erik will take you,” Zafir called as he strode past us. “I instructed him to meet you in the lobby, and to join you in the sector for once. If you aren’t gone too long—bring back some food for the rest of us. I’ll be in my office.”

“…you all like Syldrari food?” Nomusa peered at me.

“Look. I’m sure you know that food is a great vehicle for learning cultures among humans, right? It’s the same with ‘aliens’ too—though don’t call them that.” I pressed my fingers to my temples. “The Syldrari are artists in all they do. You want to understand them and learn more about their culture? Then start by experiencing their food. Or well, trying to. They can be quite chatty with people who show interest.”

“Artists…” Nomusa murmured the word to herself a few times as we descended in the elevator, then her expression lit up. “Artists! That’s it! Artists wish for their work to be recognized and appreciated, and as such they must be eager to talk about their art. This ‘Rel’ person must be an artist of the culinary variety, yes?”

“It’s one of his many talents, to be sure.” I nodded, then noticed the sly look she gave me. “What?”

“What other talents do you know about? Hmmm? I hear they’re very… giving .” Nomusa waggled her eyebrows at me.

“No idea. Subjects in the Resonance Project are forbidden from engaging in intimate or pleasurable acts with anyone—inside of the facility or out.” I shrugged and linked my hands behind my back. “You’re more likely to find out than I am. Between the two of us, you’re the only free Iri here.”

“Iri?” Nomusa inquired, chasing after me yet again when the elevator opened.

“…I see I need to give you a briefing on the way there.” I sighed and looked to Erik as he approached us. “Morning, Erik. You mind taking a longer route? It looks like I need to give Ambassador Nomusa a crash course on our way to the Syldrari Sector.”

“Sure.” Erik nodded, before tossing me a packaged bar. He grinned at my questioning look. “You’re gonna need a snack if we’re taking the long route.”

“Thanks,” I mused.

* * *

Erik and Nomusa followed me down one of the Syldrari Sector’s main streets, managing just barely to keep up with my brisk pace. Erik looked a tad uncomfortable, but not for the reason I expected. More than a few particularly androgynous Syldrari recognized him and either called to him by name, or waved flirtatiously at him.

I was starting to get a mental picture of why there was dance music in the background whenever I called him to pick me up. But…I wasn’t going to tease or question him about it. The Syldrari clearly liked him quite a lot—and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know why.

Nomusa, on the other hand, was a tad harder to control. She wanted to look at everything and everyone. Her rather obvious fascination was making the Syldrari uncomfortable, but they were tolerating her…for the moment. I just hoped I hadn’t been so obnoxiously curious when I first came to the sector.

“Come on. I’m hungry.” I pulled Nomusa away from the Syldrari she’d been inching toward. “And you need to get ahold of yourself. These are people. Not a circus for you to gawk at.”

“I— Sorry. It’s just…they’re so pretty. Everything is so pretty!” Nomusa glanced around, then pointed to a mural on the side of a building. “See? In the rest of the city, no matter how beautiful the piece, it would just be mocked as graffiti and removed. Here, it’s left on display!”

“Elara did tell you they’re an artistic bunch.” Erik shrugged, hands-in-pockets.

“Mhm. Artistic.” I shot Erik an amused side glance. “Which you clearly know more about than I thought.”

“Er…” Erik cleared his throat. “Let’s get moving.”

“I don’t mean to offend anyone…” Nomusa murmured. “It’s just….so rare to see Syldrari since they usually stay in this sector.”

“You’ve never personally met them?” I sighed in disbelief. “Well, come on. We can fix that at least.”

With some difficulty, we got Nomusa moving and made our way to Rel’s cafe without too many more interruptions. Erik held the door open for us, and hesitated before following us in. An amused smile came to my face when Casair whipped around at the bar and raised a weapon—which he quickly forgot about when he spotted me.

“Uh… Elara…” Casair’s rifle drifted downward as his head tilted to the side, his gaze drifting down my body.

“Put the rifle away, won’t you?” I walked over and patted his arm, giving him a charming smile, before flicking my eyes back the way I’d come. “I would appreciate it if no one here frightened Ambassador Nomusa. She’s already rather overwhelmed by all the sights, sounds, and smells she’s never experienced before.”

“Ambassador…” Casair looked past me, then lowered his rifle and glanced away bashfully. “Apologies, ma’am. Everyone’s on edge with all that’s been goin’ on as of late…”

“What is all the—” Rel walked out of the backroom, pausing as he rolled up his cuffs. He tilted his head faintly when he spotted Nomusa and Erik, then turned his attention in my direction. “Elara, should I be preparing a private room?”

“Rel, this is Ambassador Nomusa,” I informed him, shaking my head. “She wants my help in learning more about Syldrari people, culture, and customs. Considering I’m still learning myself… Well, you like trying your food on new humans, right?”

Rel gave me an odd look, then looked to Nomusa. His expression grew much more stern when he looked at her—a fact that didn’t seem to go missed by Casair, who began stroking his chin in thought.

“Nomusa, is it? You’re aware that there’s bad blood with the former ambassador?” Rel finished rolling up his sleeves and fastening them in place, then gracefully strode along the bar, trailing his fingers over the polished surface. When he stopped, he narrowed his eyes at me. “Elara, I can hear your stomach from here. Take a seat.” He paused to glance briefly at Erik, “I suppose you may find a seat as well, though you and Nomusa will likely be taking a booth.”

I perched on the remaining free seat, beside Casair, and leaned forward with amusement. “Her palette is a bit delicate. Don’t be too mean.”

“…delicate?” Rel asked begrudgingly.

I held up one of the red ludrán. “ This flavor is too spicy for her. She mentioned something about her family making spicy things, but…”

“Elara, there are a dozen flavors that color. Be more speci—” Rel started, but I promptly unwrapped the candy and pressed it into his mouth. I gave him a sweet smile in response to the half flustered, half aggravated look his shot me as he begrudgingly ate the candy. After a moment, he raised an eyebrow. “…that is…spicy to humans?”

“Mhm.” I nodded, setting back in my seat. “I’m pretty sure she’s genuine about wanting to learn. If you want to question her and her motives—be my guest.”

“What—?” Nomusa started nervously when Rel gave her a sharp look.

“Syldrari know when someone is lying,” I informed her sweetly. “So, if your intentions aren’t as good and innocent as you claim…”

“…then you’re in a room full of people who can make you disappear, and escorted by two people who will help,” Erik finished, crossing his arms over his chest. “The Syldrari are some of the nicest, most hospitable people I’ve ever known—but only if you’re worthy of their trust.”

“I suppose I should handle the questioning…” Rel hesitated, glancing my way again, then released a reluctant sigh. “Aldiner, Ciheri—come keep Elara entertained. Show her how you’ve improved your cooking abilities, while you’re at it.”

“Hey, I can entertain her just fine myself,” Casair spoke up, shooting Rel a disgruntled glare.

“…yes, you can. But can you feed her? No? I thought not.” Rel made a dismissive motion as he walked toward Nomusa and Erik. “Now then, I believe we should speak privately. Once I’ve determined your intentions, we can return here and I will prepare a meal for you—assuming your intentions are favorable.”

“Elara, last time I saw you, you mentioned not being around for much longer…” Casair started quietly, causing the approaching Aldiner and Ciheri to give us odd looks. “You aren’t thinking of doing something foolish, are you?”

“Hmm?” I blinked at him for a moment, before it hit me what he was implying. “Oh! No. I was speaking in relative terms, Casair. I’ve been led to believe my lifespan is that of a non-augmented, untouched human. I could be gone in 50 years or I could be gone in five. Hell, with luck I could make it into my 90s or lower 100s. But, seeing as I’m a soldier and tensions are high…”

“I…see. That is a relief.” Casair sighed heavily and reached for his drink.

“‘Led to believe’ is an interesting phrase…” Ciheri murmured, his expression inquisitive.

“Well, I don’t know for certain because I haven’t been outright told. I just know the imperials want to retire me in the next few years,” I pointed out with an amused smile. “There’s a few ways I can interpret it, sure, but without more information…”

“More information she can’t get ,” Casair corrected me bitterly. “Sorry, Elara. I really wish we could say more…but…we prefer you alive.”

“It’d be kinda weird if we didn’t,” Aldiner pointed out, placing his hands on his hips. “Besides, Rel, Ciheri, and I know even less since no one wants to keep us in the loop.”

“Sorry it’s just…” Casair muttered, before deflating a little. “Why’s this planet gotta be so damned complicated?”

“I know better than to blame you,” I informed him, giving him a pat on the arm. Then, I looked to Aldiner and Ciheri. “So, about breakfast…”

“Right!” Ciheri smiled brightly. “We aren’t as good as Rel yet, but we’re getting there. It won’t be long until we can more regularly help out around the cafe!”

“But it’d be better if you could do what you wanted…” Casair grumbled, propping his cheek in his hand. Ciheri gave him a puzzled look. “You’d rather be researching and cataloging, right? Yet the humans are in the way, and no one can make ‘em see reason.”

“Yes, but they, statistically, will not remain in the way. I’m patient.” Ciheri began humming cheerfully to himself as he turned and began preparing ingredients.

Aldiner shrugged. “He’s right though. We’ve got, what, another century at most before this human empire is as advanced as the last one that destroyed itself. If the theories are right and that is humanity’s apex—this planet will fall within the next hundred years.”

“Why am I not surprised Syldrari have statistics for these things?” I remarked dryly.

“Survival and efficiency. “ Ciheri gave me a puzzled glance. “Why waste time, money, and lives on wars—or other people’s wars—when they’re due to destroy themselves soon with or without our intervention?”

“Statistics help us know when and how to act,” Casair offered with a half-smile. “There’s more whimsical Syldrari of course. You can’t have an artistic culture such as ours without a healthy amount of whimsy. But, it’s balanced by people like Ciheri here.”

“Because he can separate whimsy and logic as needed?” I asked, earning a nod in response. Tilting my head, I looked over to the pale Syldrari in question. “In which case…what arts do you like?”

“Um…” Ciheri murmured, blue creeping into his cheeks and the tips of his ears. “I’m sorry, could…you be more specific? There’s so many things, I just…”

“You don’t need to apologize. It was a bit broad a question.” I smiled at him. “I was thinking along the lines of what you like to indulge in for relaxation purposes. Something you enjoy but don’t take on as say, a career.”

“Mmm…” Ciheri tilted his head faintly. “I like listening to music while I design ah…I’m not sure what the human word would be for them. The closest might be…patterns?”

Casair said something to Ciheri, which my chip also translated as ‘patterns.’ Then, Casair looked to me and offered, “To humans they’d look decorative, but they serve technological and aetherological functions. Most clans aim to have their own unique patterns they use, but they have to function well too.”

“I design them and sell them freelance to clans who don’t have someone who can,” Ciheri murmured, flushing a deeper blue. “I like research too of course, but it is more mentally draining than design. Drawing can be quite relaxing.”

Why is he so embarrassed? I wondered, propping my cheek against my fist. “Now I’m curious. Maybe you could show me sometime—or, if you’re not comfortable with that, you could share the kind of music you listen to with me.”

“I can share some great music with you too!” Aldiner quickly jumped in, grinning as he leaned against the counter. “And before you ask—dance. All kinds of dancing. Even some of the human dances are fun.”

“What about you, Elara?” Ciheri murmured, even though asking looked like it made him even less comfortable.

“Hmmm… I’m still figuring out what I like. I do a lot of reading, but none of it is for pleasure. It’s to learn. I have been listening to music while I do it, but human music is just…missing something.” I considered it for a moment, before explaining, “It’s like my brain expects three dozen more instruments and sounds to be in effect, yet there’s only four.”

“Human music usually lacks a certain…depth.” Ciheri turned to nudge Aldiner out of his way, and placed a glowing, pale pink drink in front of me. “There are some genius composers and lyricists among humans. I think if they worked with Syldrari musicians they could bridge the gap.”

“That’s always the problem, isn’t it? Bridging the gap,” Casair remarked with a small sigh, then glanced down at me. “You know, Syldrari, human, or anything else—it’s odd to hear an Iri who is genuinely interested in what mere Sol’iri and Lun’iri enjoy.”

“Really…?” I swiveled my seat and leaned toward him. “What about you, then?”

“Me? Uh…” Casair still looked taken aback by the question. “Don’t laugh. I’m at home in a forge and craftsman’s shop. Metal, wood, shell, stone, some materials you won’t recognize—I’ll work with it all. Weapons, decorations, dinnerware…I’ll make whatever strikes my fancy that day.”

“In other words, he’s good with his hands,” Aldiner suggested slyly, waggling his eyebrows. “While I am good with my entire body and Ciheri is good with his mind.”

“I’m a soldier—I’m damn good with my body too,” Casair snapped at the rave fish.

Riiight… I tilted my head as I glanced between the three men. After a moment, I decided not to play into Aldiner’s game and instead picked up my drink. Let’s see…new topic?

“Now that I think about it, what does Rel like aside from cooking?” Aldiner asked, looking over at Ciheri. “Like, what does he do when he locks himself in his apartment at the end of the day?”

“I study ancient history and lost knowledge,” Rel answered from somewhere behind me. I glanced back at him, while Casair stiffened.

“Don’t start.” Casair shot me a side-eye.

“Oh lovely. Is that why you’re here? To keep an eye on me?” I shot Casair an irritated look. “To ‘make sure Elara doesn’t start poking around about forbidden knowledge?’”

“Only half of it.” Casair grunted.

“Care to explain?” Rel placed a hand on Casair’s shoulder and all the color drained from Casair’s face. “Come with me. You are not leaving me out of the loop again.”

“Mmm?” Ciheri looked between the two. “This sounds interesting! Can I—”

“No. Finish feeding Elara,” Rel stated flatly, pushing Casair in the direction of the stairs. Then, he paused and motioned off behind me somewhere. “Inform Erik and Nomusa of their breakfast options and take their orders.”

“Fine…” Ciheri slumped.

“Tch.” I guzzled the remaining half my drink in irritation then pouted at Ciheri and Aldiner. “Another, please.”

“What was all that about?” Erik stopped next to my seat.

“Just like I can’t ask, I can’t say.” I shot him an agitated glare.

“Right…” Erik grimaced, then glanced over his shoulder at Nomusa. “Shall we?”

“Yes, a booth will do.” Nomusa nodded, following Erik across the room.

“Hey, can the two of you send me a list of music to listen to?” I eyed Aldiner and Ciheri.

“I’ll do you one better—give me a moment.” Aldiner grinned. He conjured an unfamiliar device in one hand and scanned it by the side of his head, then did the same with Ciheri. Then, he held it out to me with a smile. “May I?”

“Sure?” I raised an eyebrow. He waved the thing by the side of my head, and I felt a faint magnetic pull. Then, I sensed—for lack of a better term— thousands of songs.

“There, now you have all the music we listen to.” Aldiner grinned broadly.

“Thanks, both of you.” I gave them both a smile. So…what, I just access it like AR or the internet? Hmmm… Maybe I’ll wait ‘til I’m back at HQ…

[ Author's Site | | Discord | Facebook | Other Work | My Books on Amazon ]

For quicker releases, Advanced Reading Copy opportunities, and behind the scenes posts--check out my Patreon!