Leaping from the bar, it sailed through the air and landed on the wall. Everyone watched as it scurried up to the ceiling, where it paused to look down. The thing trilled twice before racing across the ceiling and vanished into an air duct.

  Everyone at the bar watched it vanish before resuming their conversations and forgetting about what had just happened.

  Everyone, that is, except the bartender who recognized the thing. He had a memory of a large gaping maw snapping at his heels while he ran for his spacecraft. The loud, bone-rattling roar of a jade guivre deafening him as he and his crewmates closed the hatch.

  “What is a jade guivre doing on the spaceport?” the bartender asked aloud as he turned back to the patron waiting to make an order.

  “Maybe it’s looking for an opportunity,” the patron countered, “After all, isn’t that why we all come here?”

  The jade guivre in question had no care or consideration for what the bartender thought. Or anyone in that noisy, smelly place. He had been given a task to do by his bipedal companion, and he had accomplished that task.

  He was already anticipating the delight of the crunchy insectoid she would present him in thanks for completing what she had asked. The tiny camera mounted beside his left ear hole had stopped being a bother less than a week after his companion had put it there. That had been more than a year ago.

  As he traveled through the air ducts and closer to his destination, the guivre paused to taste the recycling air. Smells running from the instinctively tantalizing to the absolute disgusting were all around. He found the most familiar combination of these and followed the traces.

  It didn’t take very long for the jade guivre to locate his lady’s room. Scurrying through the vent, he raced along the ceiling, down the wall, and onto her desk. There he sat on his haunches as he waited patiently for her to finish dressing.

  Sabine Campania turned to face her little jade guivre. Over a year ago she’d visited Last Hope. Her parents had been scientists, explorers who traveled planets under the microscope of Interstel. Yes, Interstel funded everything, and had even allowed them to bring their daughter along rather than live under foster care at Arth. But the company never let them have vacation, or own anything. What lives they had were carved in between the spaces of their jobs. Last Hope had been one of the few planets where, as a family, they’d experienced more wonder and awe than danger or deadlines. So when an opportunity came to go to that place again, Sabine took it. And wound up stumbling across a nearly newborn guivre, native to Last Hope. Using the methods taught to her as a child, she’d caught the hatchling and began training it. Two months later, she’d been approached by Interstel. Though they couldn’t prove she’d caught and trained a guivre, she knew drastic measures would have to be taken. So when her boyfriend had been given a promotion and opportunity to work at Spaceport Central, she knew it was the only chance she’d have to drop out of sight of Interstel. Permanently. One shot at vanishing from sight and given the protection her parents had never had. She accepted it with a heavy heart and cold determination.

  For just shy of two years, she’d been visiting her boyfriend on the spaceport. He’d been promoted from his bank on Arth and they’d gone from living together to infrequent visits on the spaceport. Sure, it gave her time to go off-planet and visit other planets. Her degree in geology and science gave her the ability to get short-term jobs on various jumps to other planets. Between her knowledge and charm, she’d managed to get a job on a ship returning to Last Hope.

  There she’d caught Doka. Within six months she’d trained her little companion.

  “Let’s see what you have, Doka,” Sabine said to the guivre.

  Doka the jade guivre trilled at Sabine, which made her smile. Opening a drawer, she removed a container. Unscrewing the lid, she removed a large winged insect. The fat body shimmered silver and gold in the light. The green wings reflected shades of teal as she held it out to her little lizard-like companion.

  A long tongue flicked out and wrapped around the insect before snapping it back into the waiting mouth. Two bites later and the insect was nothing but a memory. Sabine chuckled as Doka tilted his head to the side, a baleful look on his face as she went to screw the lid back on.

  “One more, but that’s all,” she said as she removed another insect. This time he scurried forward and daintily took it from her fingers.

  Within seconds the lid was back on the container and she was scratching him gently under the chin with one hand as the other keyed up the video he’d captured from the bar.

  She paused the frame as she found who she was looking for. Staring at the screen, she sighed, a slight smile on her lips.

  Now she needed to put her plan into action. Her nerves sang with anticipation. Up until now, she’d been able to slide by with her wits and knowledge. Now she was stepping into unknown territory.

  Doka trilled again as he stretched before curling back up again. She looked down at the guivre and smiled. Considering Interstel had a heavy presence on the Starport, she had to keep Doka hidden, which meant not allowing him freedom to explore.

  Guivre were curious creatures who loved searching for minerals. They were also mischievous and always had the munchies. Any time colonists appeared on a planet with guivre, the creatures would seek out their food stores and turn it into their own personal buffet.

  On Arth, she allowed Doka to explore and bring back whatever minerals he could find that didn’t come from a vault of any sort. Here, on the spaceport, she couldn’t allow him out, aside from the brief jaunts to the bar. He must have been really bored if he’d allowed himself to be seen this time. It wouldn’t be long until Interstel came knocking at her door.

  With luck, she wouldn’t be around for them to find her.

  Just one more day.

  One last kiss.

  Sabine had visited enough over the past year that she knew her way around the interior of the Starport like the back of her hand. Sometimes she’d stay for a few days. Other times for a week or more. Her face was known. So far, she’d managed to slip through the station without anyone recognizing her. That wouldn’t last for long, though, and she knew it.

  Grabbing her overnight bag from the bed, she pulled out a wig and coveralls. Within minutes, she’d braided her long dark auburn hair and pinned it tight against her scalp. She arranged the blonde wig on her head, checking it in the mirror. Stray strands of her dark hair were tucked under and the wig secured in place. Taking a brush, she carefully styled the wig until the strands fell in place.

  Pulling out a makeup kit, she sat in front of the mirror and applied it. It wouldn’t change a lot of her features, but it would shift it enough to be different. Instead of painting herself to stand out, she did the opposite. The only thing she couldn’t change was her eyes. She didn’t have anything to change her violet eyes to something else. Instead, she used the makeup to shift their color as much as possible so they would reflect green instead of their usual blue.

  The makeup kit was replaced into her bag before turning to the coveralls. Pulling them on, she zipped it up. The logo for the spaceport’s technical support was emblazoned onto the right chest pocket. With luck, she’d be able to slip in and out without running into any problems.

  “Come on, Doka. Let’s get to work,” Sabine said, offering her hand to the jade guivre.

  Doka scrambled up her arm before curling up at the base of her neck beneath the wig.

  “First stop, the bank,” Sabine said as she shoved the overnight bag into a duffel with the same logo as on her coveralls.

  Some things didn’t change. Appearing as someone who worked for technical support on an orbiting space station that thrived upon technology working meant easy entrance into non-secure places. Walking into the main entrance of the bank, the main security guard greeted her with a grin.

  “Y’all never get a break, do ya?” he said. “Who ya here for?”

  “Eva Surtis,” Sabine replied in a sultry tone. She’d practiced it for several weeks and when the guard relaxed and a smirk appeared, she knew she’d hit the right tone.

  Surtis was known to hit on anything humanoid. Male, female. It didn’t matter to her. She was very free in her affections and damned good at her job.

  “She’s on the second floor. Third office on the right after you get off the lift,” the guard replied. He glanced at the clock and gave a nod. “She should be at lunch.”

  He handed her a badge, which Sabine clipped to the lapel of the coveralls. Without another word, Sabine headed for the lift that would take her to the second floor of the bank. She’d picked Eva because the woman had never changed her schedule. No matter what was happening, or where she was, Eva always ate at the same time every day.

  The lifts were located at the back of the place. This meant walking past the rows of automated kiosks that handled the majority of transactions at every bank. Kiosks still reminded her of the original trash-collecting droids from Arth. Of course, none of those old machines had touch screens, scanners for optical, olfactory, and DNA matching, or taser charges to immobilize unruly customers.

  Whomever designed the machines must have worked in tandem with the interior designers for banks. They had the same combination of warm neutral colors and blue hues as the floor and furniture. At first glance, it gave many the optical illusion that the lounge chairs, kiosks and everything else had magically risen out of the floor and formed in their respective spots.

  Sabine strode with a purpose to the lift, rode it up, and moved to the right. The second floor was designed with green hues instead of blue. Color blindness had long ago been cured amongst humans, and other races had better adaptive methods than their Arth counterparts. So the change to signify a different level did not go to waste. Nevertheless, she was glad she knew which of the blazing red numbers signified Eva’s office. She held the pass given to her in front of the tiny mass spectrometer next to the door. The machine verified her access and the door slid back to allow her entrance.

  Stepping into the room, Sabine watched the door close and breathed a sigh of relief. So far, so good.

  Crossing to Eva’s console, she removed a small disk from a pocket and inserted it into the console. Tapping a few keys on the keyboard, she pulled up the schedule for all the employees. It listed their days off, their requested vacation days, where their rooms were, and more.

  AraCorp Banks was very particular about their employees.

  Most people didn’t like a business having so much information on them, let alone tracking them. But anyone who wanted to work for the prestigious bank had to deal with it or find a job elsewhere.

  So far, everything she found was listing everything she already knew. But there were a few things she needed to do for herself.

  With a few more taps of the keys, she pulled up her own accounts with the bank and settled in for making the needed alterations.

  Ten minutes later, she removed the disc, pocketed it, and departed the office. Heading back down, she paused long enough to return the badge back to the guard before leaving.

  One task down, she thought to herself.

  Now, on to the next.

  Heading down the corridor, she ducked into one of the ladies’ restrooms. The sonic sinks lined one wall, while mirrors sat directly above them. Water wasn’t needed when the sonics cleansed better than soap ever did. Plus, there was no need to worry about pipes leaking and causing damage.

  Each restroom had different color schemes. This one had white tiles in geometric shapes covering the walls. Near the ceiling and floor the tiles were a pale blue and in the shape of waves. The floors were square white tiles interspaced with pale blue tiles. The ceiling currently showed a sky with fluffy white clouds.

  A way for everyone to know what time of day it was, Sabine supposed.

  Vending machines lined the white tile wall closest to the door, offering products specific to women of all races and species. Their upkeep was maintained by various organizations, so there was no need to pay for any of them. The one proclaiming its vast array of sexual products in neon flashing lights made Sabine chuckle.

  Shaking her head, she stepped into one of the stalls where she quickly shed the coveralls. Folding them up, she placed them on the floor. In the bottom of the duffel she pulled a briefcase. Not much larger than the bottom of the bag, she unclasped it and tucked the coveralls and bag into it.

  Pulling off the wig, she shoved it into the briefcase, as well. Her hair she could let down, but the makeup needed to be changed. Removing her makeup kit, she changed her appearance once more. This time dressing herself up to highlight her lips, eyes, and facial features. Doka napped against her neck the whole time, camouflaged by her hair. Dropping the makeup kit into the briefcase, she snapped it shut.

  Sabine stayed in the stall for a few more moments before standing. The soft sound of the toilet being emptied and cleansed rose from the toilet as she grabbed the handle of the briefcase.

  Crossing to the sinks, she allowed the sonics to cleanse her hands before leaving the restroom. Sabine located one of the large trash receptacles in a nearby section. They looked like oversized closet doors set every so often in port corridors. She opened the door, dropped the briefcase into the open chamber and then closed the door.

  A section of the door lit up, with the instruction to “Please Wait” in sixteen different languages. There was a hum accompanied by a flash of light. The receptacle was little more than a transporter that took whatever was put into it to, well, nowhere. The matter was broken down and stored for recycling and replication of other objects. As long as nothing organic was shoved into a “trash closet”, it was erased and used to construct other things.

  The door’s display changed to the message “Complete. Thank You” which signaled that the briefcase and its contents were now nothing but categorized atoms awaiting a new arrangement.

  Next up were the shops. She looked around and verified there was no being nearby.

  “Off you go, Doka,” she cooed.

  Doka slipped out from under her hair, stretched, and then scurried up a wall to disappear into the ducts. Sabine waited until Doka was out of sight.

  No one outside the restroom gave her a second glance as she exited, appearing as just another businesswoman on the expansive spaceport.

  Interstel wasn’t all bad. After all, they had been behind the exploration from Ancient Earth, colonized Arth, provided exploration to other planets, were the ones behind the spaceport, and kept the survival of the human race going. They may not have been the beneficial, generous, benevolent organization they seemed to be, but who was?

  Sabine had profited from what Interstel offered and now, she was going to go enjoy shopping on the spaceport for perhaps the last time. She had plenty of currency to spend, and she was going to make the best of it.

  In fact, she planned to get the best of everything.

  Another benefit of shopping on a spaceport was the variety of goods available. Every manner of ship and crew came through. Those with a mind for commerce knew the opportunity that the ports offered. Their wares and products in front of a never-ending stream of new faces in addition to those who called the port their home. Races that had no idea what the rate of currency was for any other species than their own, so the clever and ambitious could become rich within their own economy while convincing customers they were getting bargains.

  Sabine knew something of other planetary economies. A great deal of that knowledge had come from being with Sean. When they had first begun to date, he had been excited to realize that she was interested in how his job worked. Her personal psychosis was not well suited to interacting with hundreds, even thousands of unknown beings, let alone providing a service sector job. But the mechanics of economy were interesting to her, and she grasped the details and methods fairly well. He could talk about his job anytime, and she didn’t get lost in the subject matter.

  Stop dwelling on what’s happened before, Sabine chidded herself, get to what’s at hand.

  After spending a full five minutes looking back and forth down the selection of shops, Sabine walked into the most exclusive fashion boutique.

  “Fits” had video bits everywhere that claimed they only took customers who were prepared to have the best outfits of their lives made to order and custom fit no matter what body style. They charged for materials and consultations, only stocking the best. Race didn’t matter. The fact that “Fits” had a thriving shop on every colony was not lost on Sabine or anyone else. People spent hours sitting on the lounge furniture outside the shop entrance just to see what stunning ensemble would emerge next. The store chain had its own wave on the subnet from one end of the quadrant to the other. “Fits” and their creations were practically a religion, going by the number of beings who made both the center of their social and personal existence. Most could only look, after all.

  Sabine walked past the current crop of gawkers, prepared to have her mind and fashion sense changed for good. From her head to her toes, every layer she would ever wear. The store entrance slid open, revealing a crew of four beings, none of them human, eager to welcome her in.

  A pair of Elowan and a couple of Thyrnn, Sabine thought to herself. That sounded like the set up for a bad joke involving a bar. Yet, that was precisely what she was facing. The Elowans moved around her, their stalk-like appendages flowing around the pair as though a breeze were blowing. The Thrynn bodies quivered with what Sabine hoped was excitement.

  “Hail to thee,” the Elowan pair said in unison, “and well met are we. Thou art welcome, customer of Fits.”

  “Despite your hideous form, and our inferior co-workers,” declared the closest Thrynn, “we shall dress you as you have never been dressed before!”