Beyond Sol Bk. 01 Pt. 02

"We're nearly there," Shara said.

The grey-skinned beauty had fallen back to walk alongside me, and I noticed the other two from the hangar had appeared by Zullo's sides. The smaller, yellow-skinned man was leaning in close, whispering in Zullo's ear and shooting glances back my way.

"What's that all about?" I asked, indicating the glares I was receiving from the alien man.

"That's Zarik. He doesn't like you," Shara shrugged. "There's no reason for it. His people just tend to have grudges against everyone for no reason."

"Should I worry about him trying something?" I asked.

"No, Zullo will keep him in line. Zarik may be a savage, but his people are loyal."

I avoided looking at the yellow-skinned man apart from a cursory glance since I didn't want to piss him off. I could probably draw my pistol and put a bullet in his head at this range with ease, but I really didn't want to escalate anything if I could avoid it. Death glares and stink-eye cost nothing to endure but dealing with the man if he felt I'd insulted him or threatened him could cause a lot of damage in a place like this.

Especially if the automated defences kicked in.

"Here we are," Shara said after a few moments.

I looked at the building we'd stopped in front of. It was less a building that had been constructed, and more a part of the space station itself since everything in here seemed to be connected to floor, ceiling, or the buildings either side of them, sometimes all at once. The door looked like solid glass that warped the image of anything on the other side, and a large neon sign of blue, green, and gold hung over the door in a text I couldn't read. It looked garish and gaudy like it belonged in the slums of a red-light district straight out of an 80's cop movie. As I looked up and down the street, I started to wonder if that's exactly what type of place this was.

There was trash littering the streets and groups of mean-looking, overly muscled aliens standing in groups. More feminine species stood in packs too, but those looked to be dressed in little to nothing, and only paid attention to men who walked by that didn't fit the aesthetic of an intergalactic thug or pimp. I also noticed for the first time that there were no patrolling guards. Maybe this place was closer to the seedy, criminal-run slums back on earth than I was comfortable with.

"What is this place?" I asked Shara, a tinge of worry on my voice.

"Don't be afraid, Jason, but the things we need aren't exactly in the legal nature," she explained.

"What do we need to do that involves these guys and this place," I indicated the waiting trio and building before us.

"Do you trust me?" Shara turned to look me in the eyes.

I met her eyes, and we held each-others for half a minute.

"Yes," I replied, not an ounce of doubt in my tone.

"Thank you," she smiled. "Now come with me."

Shara gave me a warm smile, looped her arm through mine, and guided me to the glass door as if we were on a date to fancy restaurant. Zullo nodded to me and stepped through the door first before holding it open for Shara and me. His thugs stayed outside—which I was thankful for—but I still earned a malignant grin from the yellow-skinned asshole while his companion kept his eyes on the street. I stepped in right beside Shara and found myself standing in a room that looked remarkably like a general practitioner waiting room back home. A small square desk that looked to be a single moulded piece of white plastic sat against the back wall, between two arched doorways, and padded benches ran along each wall with a few simple armchairs dotted around low, circular tables.

A few plants of various colours and vibrancies; purples, yellows, and blue; were potted and placed neatly around the waiting room, helping combat the harshness of the rusty-steel walls, floors, and ceilings. The waiting room was empty except for a tall, slender woman seated behind the desk. She rose to her feet as we filed in and offered us a welcoming smile.

She was easily two metres tall—maybe taller. Her body was slim and slender, and she was dressed in a long, shimmery black dress that hugged her slight yet perfect curves. Her face was human enough that she could pass as one, except she was incredibly pale, and her long white hair shone in the light like spun silver. She looked to be completely absent any body hair, even eyebrows, but she still had delicately beautiful features. Her eyes were almost human, except where mine were blue, hers were black, and her white irises looked to be packed to the brim with curiosity and intelligence.

I'd been studying the beautiful woman a bit too intently, so intently I hadn't even registered the conversation she was having with Zullo and Shara—not that I could understand a single thing they said. They each spoke what sounded like a different language, but they all seemed to understand one another. The pale-skinned woman kept glancing over to me as she conversed with Shara, and I even saw a smile creep across her full lips, pale lips. What exactly were these two talking about? I decided to keep my mouth shut for now, but I was going to have a talk with Shara about what she told people about me.

After a dozen seconds of waiting, the slender woman stepped out from behind her desk and motioned for me to follow her. I looked over to my companion, then to Zullo. Neither made a move to follow the woman.

"She will take you to see the doctor," Shara said as if reading my mind.

"What do I need a doctor for?" I asked. I hadn't felt sick or in need of medical attention.

"Zullo made plans to get you an identification implant so that you can move about without issues from the local law," she explained.

"Well, I guess that's a good idea, thanks man," I nodded to Zullo.

I knew he couldn't understand me, but the gesture seemed universal, and he gave me a broad grin as he nodded back.

"Well, wish me luck," I said with a shrug.

"You're probably the luckiest person I know, Jason," Shara said with a soft laugh.

A few weeks ago, I would have disagreed with her, but the number of times I'd avoided death since meeting her made me believe the god - or goddess - of luck was finally on my side. Now that I thought about it, it was all luck. If Amy hadn't been running late to work, I wouldn't have gotten caught up in the robbery. Without that, I would have driven down that stretch of road at the wrong time and never saw Shara's ship come down. Shit had been crazy since that night, but I wouldn't change a damn thing.

I followed the slender, pale woman down the left hallway, passing closed doors on either side. The walls were the same white, plastic-looking material of the woman's desk, with enough wear and damage that made me think they were temporary dividers that became far too permanent over time. When we reached the end of the hallway, I followed my silent guide down a corridor to the left, to an open door. She stopped beside the door and motioned for me to enter with a nod of her head. I gave her my most charming smile which she returned, flashing me her perfect teeth; before stepping into the small room.

The room I entered was sparsely furnished with only two steel chairs, a wheeled cabinet, and a long, curved bed in the centre of the room. The bed had a slight S curve to it and looked like something you'd see at a holiday resort spa, not that I'd ever been to one before. A large circular machine sat at the top end of the bed and hummed with a faint thrum of energy as blue lights pulsed around the rim. I didn't know what it was used for, but it reminded me of MRI machines back home, so I guessed it was probably something similar. I trusted Shara, so I would trust whatever machines and devices this doctor was using.

A chattering, chipmunk-like voice startled me, causing me to jump and spin around. Standing in the doorway was a tiny alien that barely reached my hips. The little alien chattered some more as it waddled past me and climbed onto a small waist-high table built into the side of the bed. Tiny hairs sprouted out of the alien's wrinkled head, and comically large, mirrored goggles took up most of its facial real estate. I guessed the alien was male since all the hair he seemed to be missing from his head was shooting out of his face seemingly at random. The wiry strands were a slight coppery colour and looked almost like burnished brass when the light hit it just right. He was definitely an odd little creature.

He motioned for me to come over to him with a wave of his little, three-fingered hands, all the while chattering in his chipmunk-like voice. I shrugged and headed over to the bed. As I approached the little alien, he held out a hand to stop me from coming any closer, then pointed at my weapons and tapped my chest.

"Take them off?' I said, pointing to my weapons.

He nodded vigorously and rambled off a string of syllables at an astounding speed.

I removed all my weapons and placed them on one of the chairs, propping my rifle against the wall. When I turned to face the little man, he smiled broadly and nodded quickly, his crazy beard bouncing from the motions. I approached the bed again and climbed onto it when the tiny doctor patted the mattress. The bed was incredibly soft, and I found myself sinking into it before I felt it stiffen and lift me slightly, moulding itself to my body.

My head was situated inside the ring of the bed, and I could see the blue lights racing along the inside. I tried to follow the lights with my eyes, but I grew tired after only a few seconds. I fought to keep my eyes open, but it felt like they'd grown a thousand times heavier, and I finally let them drop closed.

Chapter 9

I cracked my eyelids open as soon as I closed them, at least that's how it felt. I hadn't dreamt, nor did I feel refreshed whatsoever from whatever it was that had put me to sleep. My head throbbed painfully as if my brain were trying to burst free from my skull, and my mouth had an awful taste in it like I had spent all night shooting whiskey out of a half-full ashtray. I hadn't been much of a drinker, but I had suffered a few hangovers in my time as a young adult. The pain in my head and dry, horrible taste in my mouth topped even my worst self-inflicted sick day.

"You'll be feeling rough for a few hours, my guy."

I looked about the room for the source of the comical, high-pitched voice and saw its owner. The small coppery bearded alien stood on the table beside the curved bed I was stretched out on. He grinned at me, and I could see my reflection in his large, mirrored goggles as he leaned uncomfortably close.

"Wait a second. You're speaking English!" I exclaimed, sitting up far quicker than I should have. My head spun, and I clutched the side of the bed as a throbbing pain shot through my skull and down my back, so intense that I struggled to keep the contents of my stomach down.

"Oh no, no no," He wagged his finger at me. "I do not speak the English, I simply speak, and you know what I say."

He nodded as if that was all the explanation he needed while wearing a self-satisfied grin on his tiny mouth.

"But how, I couldn't understand anyone earlier," I replied. It still felt like as if a herd of cows had trampled me and then shit on by each one in turn, but it was receding rapidly.

"You now have translator," he nodded. "Here."

He leaned close and reached towards my face, tapping his finger against the base of my skull. I felt something odd when his finger touched me, and I ran my hand up and down my neck to feel for what it was. It felt like a smooth, square piece of metal embedded into my neck, slightly raised but the edges of my skin met the intrusion perfectly.

"This translates your language for me?" I asked, and the little man nodded. "How do you understand me then? English shouldn't be in the system."

"New languages are found all the time, and your friend uploaded the basics of your people's language while I operated on you, very simple," the little alien surgeon explained.

"Yeah, so simple," I said sarcastically.

"That is what I said," he replied with a puzzled frown.

I guessed Shara hadn't been able to upload 'the basics of sarcasm' to whichever system these translators fed from. That could prove difficult since sarcasm was like a second language for me.

Although, it could also prove to be entertaining.

"Where is Shara?" I asked after a few seconds.

"She is in the waiting room, with your belongings," he replied.

That was then that I noticed I was shirtless. I'd come in and removed all my weapons but none of my gear or clothing. Now I was only wearing the black cargo pants and my boots. I also noticed that I didn't look as thin and malnourished as I had when I dressed before leaving the ship. I was far from being ripped, but there was a definite change in muscle mass and definition across my chest, arms, and stomach. There was also a small rectangular implant on the underside of my left wrist.

"What's this?" I asked, rubbing at the smooth metal. It felt the same as the one on the back of my neck.

"Identification implant, it marks you as a citizen of the Union," he replied.

I had no idea what or who the Union was. Still, I felt a little more comfortable knowing I'd be able to freely travel around the space station without being hauled off by intergalactic border patrol or their equivalent.

I had started feeling a lot better as the seconds ticked by. Soon enough, the aching throb in my skull faded to more of an annoyance rather than a hindrance. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and hopped down, feeling lighter, quicker, and stronger than I had when I had lain down. I still felt like I had the hang-over from hell, but maybe the sleep had done more for me than I initially thought. I hadn't slept very well on the journey.

"The headaches should pass soon enough. Just try not to do anything strenuous for the next twenty-four hours if you can avoid it," the chipper alien doctor reminded me as I headed for the door.

"What'll happen if I do?" I asked over my shoulder.

"Mostly vomiting, diarrhea, and temporary paralysis," he said with a shrug.

"The good stuff, gotcha," I smirked.

"Not good at all, at least not here," he replied with a worried look.

"Ah, never mind, thanks, doc," I chuckled and gave the tiny surgeon a wave before I headed through the door and down the hall to the waiting room.

By the time I made the short trek down the hallway, my body seemed to have recovered almost completely, and I strode into the waiting room with far more confidence than I'd ever had back home. The tall, willowy receptionist got to her feet as soon as her eyes fell on me, greeting me with a wide smile.

"I'm glad to see you're well, Jason," she said. Her voice was almost musical and felt lovely in my ears.

"Thanks, ah..." I replied, unsure of her name or how to address her.

"You may call me Nalia," she replied as if reading my mind.

"Well, thank you, Nalia, it's been a pleasure," I said.

"The pleasure is definitely mine Jason," she replied, openly gazing at my bare torso. "You look quite nice without your shirt on."

I felt my cheeks redden at her blatant admiration and open ogling, something I had never experienced back home or would have expected: different people, different culture.

"Thank you again," I said with an embarrassed smile.

I turned away from the reception desk and Nalia's roaming eyes to find Shara sitting at one of the armchairs, her booted feet resting on one of the coffee tables. She was studying me with a barely suppressed grin, seemingly enjoying my social discomfort.

"What are you grinning at?" I said with mock annoyance.

"Nothing," she replied with a smirk. "Want your clothes?"

"Yes, please," I said, crossing the room.

"Or you could continue putting on a show for Nalia. She might not get any work done, though," Shara teased.

"You're a real comedian. You know that?" I said with a sigh.

"Can't blame her though, you do look pretty good like that," Shara winked at me and hopped to her feet, throwing my shirt at me.

I caught the black garment before my brain fully registered what the grey-skinned beauty had said. Was Shara flirting with me? Did she enjoy looking at me as much as Nalia had? I didn't have time to ask her since she'd already left through the front door. I dressed quickly and re-packed all my gear before catching up to her. I was determined to have a chat with her sooner rather than later and figure this out. I was okay with us just being friends, but I needed to know for sure, so I could stop second-guessing myself or reading into it too much.

Once I had my gear where I wanted it, I burst through the front door, expecting to have to run after Shara. Still, she was standing beside the entrance, puffing on something that resembled a cigarette, only it was dark red, with smoke that had a faint scent of raspberry mixed in with the nicotine smell. She offered it to me when I came out with an arched eyebrow.

"No thanks, those things will kill you," I said, waving the red cigarette away.

"Your people aren't immune to cancerous cells, are they?" she asked.

"Your people are?" I asked, a little surprised.

"Anyone can be. A cure for it was created and released over a century ago," she replied.

"A cure for cancer, is it expensive?" I asked, a little excited to have something so sought after available out here.

"Not at all. It's a simple injection," she smiled. "I don't know the exact science behind it, but from what I do know, the injection has tiny nano-bots in it that target and destroy cancerous growths within days. Even those with a deadly affliction can be cured."

"That's absolutely amazing!" I exclaimed. "Cancer is something on my planet that kills millions, and there's little our doctors can do to stop it."

"Well, when we go back, maybe we can introduce it to your people," she said with a genuine smile. "Do some good."

"I think I'd like that," I replied with a smile of my own.

Shara flicked the remainder of her cigarette through the air, and I spotted a soda-can-sized robot zip down from out of no-where to catch it, stuffing it inside itself before darting away to grab some more trash from the side of the road.

"Neat," I said mostly to myself.

"Sure is, follow me," Shara said.

I had no problem following the beauty since the flight-suit she wore left little to the imagination when outlining her taut ass, but I decided to step in beside her rather than ogling her distracting assets.

We walked in silence for few minutes, which allowed me to gawk at my surroundings some more like a farm-boy on his first trip to the big city. The area we entered was as busy as the hangar we arrived in earlier, only this time I could understand the multitude of conversations going on around me. Well, I could understand what wasn't drowned out by the cacophony of voices and sounds echoing around and bouncing off the interior walls of the space station. Some voices were low and guttural like a death metal vocalist, while others had a similar chitter chatter as the little doctor I had just left. And some even sounded like an accent from back home. I guessed that the translator was working to make the voices as understandable as possible using what my brain was already familiar with.

"So, where are we off to now?" I asked once I'd taken in my fill of the surroundings.

"Going to see a gunsmith about your ammunition situation," Shara replied. "I know someone who should be able to reverse engineer those bullets and make you more."

"Awesome! I can't wait," I said with barely contained excitement.

I'd always liked guns; and I really liked the rifle I'd acquired; but hadn't ever gotten a chance to shoot them, other than when we were escaping from the Area 52. But now I was free to use them, all I was lacking was enough ammunition to practice my aim and recoil control. Hopefully, Shara's gunsmith friend would be able to help me out.