The odor of bandages and antiseptics filled my sniffer. I blinked, but it didn't seem to help; a reddish fuzzy glow was all I could see. Were my eyes open? Was I dreaming? I tried to rub my eyes, and then realized I couldn't feel anything on the left side of my body. My heart raced and I screamed.

"It's ok, it's ok," a soothing voice said, "It appears you're experiencing a rare autoimmune reaction to whatever it is you ingested―molecular analysis suggests it was of the family Fabaceae, sub-family carotodin. Your vision impairment and hemiplegia should pass momentarily; I gave you an injection of solpredinol."

A moment after the voice stopped talking, I noticed some sensation returning to my limbs. My stomach still felt a little queasy, but the mention of an injection threatened to make it convulse again. I blinked and the reddish fuzz resolved to the glow from a massive light fixture hanging off of a robotic arm with lots of joints. I clawed instinctively for anything and found rubbery linen under my hands. I was on some kind of an examining table. One more blink and I sat up sharply, looking all around. I was in a large space enclosed by curtains on three sides and a brushed aluminum wall on the fourth. There were a few other examining tables, but only one of them had a patient on it. Machines sprouting all sorts of tubes and instruments sat on small wheeled carts, next to my and other examining tables. The source of the voice―a skinny boy in pale orange scrubs, stood next to me and watched the blips on a small monitor on a rolling the cart closest to me. I followed the cables from the monitor and saw that a few of them ran to patches stuck to my skin.

"What are those? Why are they on me? Get them off! Now!" I shouted.

The boy smiled. His voice cracked like a teenager's. "I was just taking some readings,” his voice said in that startlingly soothing way, “so I could treat you properly. I'm done now, though, so I can remove them."

"Thanks," I mumbled. My breathing slowed and I looked around again. The other patient here was wearing the white coat of a scientist and had a large bandaged bump on his head. He seemed to be only just waking up. I looked back up at the kid treating me. He had a name tag that said, "On call Med Tech―Murdoch Pestle.”

"I'd like to ask you some questions, if you don't mind," he said. "I didn't have time to ask the customs agent since you required immediate treatment." His voice shook and cracked some more.

I nodded slowly. I peered over at the other patient. He cringed and tried touching his head and then looked over at me.

"I'm sorry for the scare. It's never easy waking up half paralyzed. Fortunately, I began treatment about thirty minutes before you woke up."

The med tech pursed his lips. "Do you think you might have eaten something that disagreed with you? Do you have any known allergies?"

"Well, duh. I'm, uh, not sure about allergies," I lied.

The emella nuts had worked perfectly. I never thought I'd be crazy enough to intentionally trigger an allergic reaction, but I also never thought I'd be sneaking onto a space station, either.

"And what's your reason for being here on Concordia Station?"

"I'm part of the research team led by Dr. Fern Angstrom," I replied without a beat, shaking my arms to try to get more sensation back.

He nodded. "How's your stomach feeling? Any better?"

"Yeah, definitely better. A little bit achy, still."

The med tech looked relieved. "Oh good. And where did you last depart from?"

"Our research team was stationed on Beta Fornax II, doing some archiving work." I was hoping I could get the hell out of here now that I was able to move my left half again.

The other patient grunted oddly when I said "Beta Fornax."

The med tech typed something into the console and seemed to be checking some readings.

"Ok, Ms. Agven. You seem to have stabilized just fine. You can rest here until you feel better and then we'll return you to customs to finish your interview."

The hell he would. Fern had been right; there was no security here at all―just the one med tech. It'd be pie getting out of here―as long as the ACO thought I was still being treated. I guess he'd find out once the med tech got back, but I'd have a head start, at least.

The other patient was stirring. The med tech walked over to him. "How are you feeling, Dr. Palendize?"

"My head still hurts, but it's much better, thanks. I have urgent work I should get back to, though."

"Very good, Doctor, if you're feeling well enough, you're free to go."

The med tech turned to me. "If you'll excuse me, I have another ward to check on."

I nodded. "Thanks."

He slid aside a portion of the curtain surrounding us and started to walk through, but then paused and turned back to me.

"Oh, the ACO left your bag with us. It's on the floor next to your bed. Agent Browne thought you might want to change clothes after your, ah, incident. It was―messy."

"Oh, uh, thanks—thanks again."

I tried to catch a glimpse of what was behind the curtain, but he was blocking it and then he went through and it swung closed behind him.

As soon as he was gone, I sprang off of the examining table, and tried to focus on the next phase of the plan.

When my feet touched the floor, I swayed, still feeling dizzy. I blinked, scanning the floor for my bag. There it was.

As I reached down to snatch it, the other patient spoke. "Hey, did you say Beta Fornax? I hear, uh, I hear..."

I turned and narrowed my eyes at him. He had steel grey hair and a chiseled face.

I couldn't put my finger on why, but he hella irritated me as soon as he opened his mouth.

"Didn't you say you had urgent work to get back to? I've also really got to get back to my research project, sorry―"

He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Yes, yes, I do but―I hear there's a thriving community of hipsters there―on Beta Fornax II. You know, like, those cycler gangs. Is it true?"

Community. I almost laughed out loud at that, but didn't want to bust my cover. What would a scientist-type say to that?

"Oh, uh, sure, sure," I replied as I looked around for the nearest W.C. There it was. "Those scumbags are all over the place. Gotta watch out for them. They really get in the way when we're tryin' to dig up ancient tech stuff, you know?"

Shiz, I was not keeping up my Academic accent well.

He sat up on his examining table, cringing and putting a hand on his head. "Yeah, but there's something about them, don't you think?"

“Something about…? Uhm, sure. Excuse me, I need to use the John," I said. Oops.

I took my bag and headed for the door to the loo, which was in the one wall that wasn't curtains. The friggin' weirdo followed me there. I shut the door in his face, and I swear he must have been leaning against it while I trashed the med gown they'd put me in and tried to figure out the damn controls on the smart fabric of my outfit. Fern had made me go over it multiple times back on the ship, but this frado was making me nervous.

Through the door, I heard him continue, "They sell some really interesting stuff on the StarNet. And they have such...exciting lives, you know? That's what the stories say, anyway."

Stories? “Uhm, sure. So what are you in here for?" I said, trying to change the subject. "That looks like a pretty bad bump or something, huh?"

I finally got the smart fabric to mutate into professor mode and started putting it on but remembered my fake ident badge in my undies. I pulled it out, feeling Tilly's slick case still firmly there, and then got the professor duds on. The ident badge mag-latched nicely into place on my lapel. Nobody would look twice at me once I made my way to the Observation Lounge to―what was the old spy vid word?―rendezvous with Fern. 'Course I couldn't do jack until she'd had enough time to do her whiz-bang science data stuff and figure out where the freakin' signal was coming from.

More muffled talking through the door: "Oh, yes, I was working in the Q lab, and my research assistant was on an errand, so I had to try to move a cyclotron by myself, and it was stuck, but when it finally moved, I flung myself into a storage shelf and banged my head really hard. I'm feeling better, though, and it seems having to come here gave me the chance to meet you," he lowered his voice again. "Someone who has been around hipsters."

I zipped up my bag and opened the door. The weirdo had totes been right up against it because he stumbled backwards to avoid getting door in his face.

I forced a smile and then looked around for how to get out of here. "Nice chatting with you, but I've really got to―"

"Confidentially," he whispered, "I buy things from...them...and read their StarNet forums and try to interpret their gang language. Yesterday I read about this deck cronkite clotheslining about some tassel who“—

I cringed and shook my head. I was so outta here. I shoved past him finally noticing some signage on one part of the curtain wall that provided direction out of the ward. He kept following, what the friggin' hell!

"I would love to have the opportunity to study one of them up close," he said. "You must be curious too, given your exposure working with the archivists there, aren't you?"

I had the curtain pulled open and I froze at that.

I knew what he was.

We called them puppy pervs. I’d heard tales of his type, but...it made my skin crawl. The stories told how they thought of us as action figures for their sick little games. I didn't want any part of it.

But I panicked. As I checked out the hallway beyond the curtain to get my bearings, I heard myself say, "Oh I dunno, when you get past the frados it's all jerry's and juicers. Nothin' to write home about, ya know?"

I blanched, catching myself before he did. He broke out in peals of laughter.

"So you've read about them, too. Or met some, didn't you? That's totally hipster-speak. Can you tell me more about them? I've always wanted to meet a real one."

I remembered the maps I'd memorized: Once I got to the med bay exit, I had to go left. I let the curtain fall behind me and started walking down the hallway when I heard him say, "Hey didn't the med tech say your surname was Agven? But your badge says Dr. Lise Almendra."

Oh crap. I looked back and he had followed me into the hallway. I turned around to face him.

His bright blue eyes had kind of a loony gleam in them, and his jaw clenched awkwardly.

"I―Who are you?"

"I'm Garo. Dr. Garo Palendize." He lowered his voice. "Why are you trying to hide your identity? Is it because you're―like me? It's so rare I get to meet others...like me."

My lips curled, and I thought I would retch. "I'm nothing like you," I spat, frantically trying to come up with a way to lose him. But he knew―both of my identities and could get the ACO on my tail in no time if he wanted. As much as I despised the idea, I had to―humor this frado.

"No, but you are. I heard you; no Academy staff member I know would talk like that," he said. I swear there was drool leaking out of his mouth. "It's really quite exciting to meet you."

Even though there was nobody else in the hallway, I was surprised that he wasn't even trying to keep his voice down anymore. Wasn't he even a little worried that some other Academic would figure out what he was?

His grin was making my belly gurgle again, as if I'd eaten more emella nuts.

I forced a smile. "It's true, there are so few of us willing to be open about this," I said. "And now that I know your name, we can be sure to be in touch, but I have urgent work I must get to―"

"No, wait!" he said before I could get away. "You―you can't leave. Let's talk."

For shiz. I started booking it, barely noticing the alternating curtain and metal walls flying by me. I was supposed to take the first right ahead and that would get me out of the med center.

He was friggin' chasing me and babbling all the while.

"Most of my colleagues frown upon my interest in them,” he rambled. I coughed, feeling bile rise in my throat. “But they—fascinate me so. I'd love to get a chance to spend time in one of their speakeasies and just jam with them for awhile."

I nodded absently, finally seeing the turn I needed to make, maybe 30 meters ahead, that would get me to the observation lounge. I was hella glad Fern had made me commit the station maps to memory.

"The stuff they re-cool is so much more colorful and―and interesting than the bland commodities our synthers spit out, don't you think?"

He caught up and stepped in front of me. He stared at me with his icy blue eyes, and I gave him a hard glare in return. He jumped back.

"Oh, sorry. I―I just―" he had no good excuse, not in polite company. Lucky for him, I wasn't actually polite company.

I looked both ways, still surprised at our luck that nobody seemed to be around.

He perked up at what he mistook for disorientation. "Are you lost? Where are you headed? I can help you find your way, if you like."

I was relieved that he seemed to be dropping the topic of my peeps.

"I'm goin' to the, uh, Rel Lab," I lied, remembering the tenet of misdirection when trying to shake unwanted attention. “But I know how to get there myself, so really, it's cool. I got this."

His eyes lit up. "Oh, I'm going to the Rel Lab, too―"

He stepped closer to me, and I stepped back toward the wall.

I frowned. "I thought you said you were working in the Q Lab when you hit your head?"

His eyes searched the corridor. "Oh, ah, yes, but, I realized that I needed to grab a piece of―of equipment, yes―from the Rel Lab before I head back to the Q Lab. So maybe―maybe you can―"

Oh no. I didn't know how I was gonna get out of there without him following me.

"I was hoping you could tell me more about the gangs. About the hipsters you've met," he said.

I shook my head. "Nah, sorry, I've got work to―"

He stepped closer again, and I found myself backing into a closed door.

Garo finally seemed to be worried about things looking weird, and so he stepped beside me also leaning against the door.

I tried to up the intensity of my glare at him, but before I could really shoot him a killer look, we both heard a voice through the door.

"Hello, this is Med Tech Pestle," it said. Sure enough, we hadn't noticed before, but the door was labeled "Office of On-call Med Tech."

We were both frozen, listening. There was another voice, but muffled―whoever he was talking to over the comm.

"ACO Mandrake, what can I do for you?"

Pause.

"Oh, Ms. Agven? She's still resting―"

Pause.

"I see. From Cinquefoil Seven? Looking after her, hm? Ok, I will let her know―oh, that's odd. What name did they give?"

Pause.

"Juno Random? But they gave Ms. Agven's description? How very odd. Well, in any case, I'll let her know once she has finished resting. Ok. Sure, no problem."

Shiz. I must have looked like a dust-vole caught in Specialized headlights.

Garo's eyes widened. "Look, Garo, it's a long story, but there was a mix-up with my paperwork, that's all. I really need to get to the―" I didn't want to take him to the observation lounge, in hopes I could lose him later. "―the Rel Lab to meet F―my, uh, colleague."

"You sure do have a lot of names," he said, in a whisper, "So why do they think you are someone named Juno Random?"

"Like I said, a mix-up―"

"Agven and Almendra, I could see as a mix-up, but Juno Random...that sounds like a cycler gang member’s name," he hissed excitedly.

I turned away from him and tried to run and circle around him, but he grabbed my wrist.

"You're one of them, aren't you? A hipster. You spoke like they do in the stories. I wondered if that really could have been just from hearing them talk."

I gritted my teeth. I so wanted to bitch-slap him into the next star cluster, but I wasn’t about to smack down a nerd on their turf—I might never get out of here alive if I did that. Instead, I snatched my wrist away from him. "I gotta go," I said, and took a step away from the office door just as it opened.

The med tech came out. "Is someone looking for me? Oh, it's you. I guess you're feeling better now?"

He looked confused. "And Dr. Palendize? You're also feeling better, it seems―" he shook his head, "I didn't realize you knew each other...did you just say she's a―hipster?"

The med tech looked back and forth between me and Garo.

I glanced at Garo, and he was scanning the corridor, which was now empty. Faster than I could blink, Garo tackled the med tech.

Garo was hella stronger than he looked. He slammed the med tech into his own open office door, which he bounced off of, his momentum taking him toward his chair. The med tech toppled over the chair and Garo kicked him in the head to make sure he was out. He was most def hella out.

What the frig was I getting myself into? Garo motioned for me to leave the office, and it looked like he was flipping the lock from the inside before closing the door on his way out.

I shook my head in disbelief. I owed the frado now.

"I know this station," he said. "I've worked here on and off for years. I can help you."

I leaned against the closet door. "Why would you do that?"

He averted his gaze to the floor and shifted awkwardly. His eyes darted around, searching, then finally risked a glance at me. “Because―because maybe you'll tell me more stories if I help you?"

I gritted my teeth. If he was like other puppy pervs I'd heard about, he was hoping for far more than stories. I felt like I was gonna heave.

"I don't have time for that, doc. Not now."

"Just―just let me help you. And when you have time, promise you'll tell me more about them―about you. And your people."

He could have pwned me right then if he'd wanted to. All he had to do was get on that intercom. Frig.

"Ok, ok," I said, exhaling.

"Come on," he said.

As we got onto the lift, I thought about what I could tell him. I was supposed to meet Fern at the observation lounge, but I'd told Garo I was going to her lab. I didn't want to give away the whole plan, so I figured I'd just let him show me the way to the Rel Lab, and I'd do my best to explain things to Fern once I got there. Somehow.