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It was probably good I was here during the off-season, because even now I was overwhelmed by the sounds and the smells and the colours. Absurdly, I wished I’d brought my pan out from the bedroom of my station sleeping quarters, even though I rationally knew I’d look completely insane in my dirty uniform carrying around a massive, heavy pan caked with blood I hadn’t even scrubbed off yet. I’ll have to do that as soon as I get my hands on a sponge or a scrub brush and some oil for re-seasoning.
I moved from the outer edge of this circular floor of Elora Station to the centre where shining orbs zipped up and down in a vast column, shimmering lifts that put the creaky Terratribe I elevators to shame. I got one all to myself and spent so long gawking at how quickly the floors flashed past outside that I ended up getting off on the wrong level.
I would have turned right back around and gotten back in my zippy little orb, if it weren’t for the richest coffee-smell to have ever graced my nostrils taunting me from a small shop ahead. Deciding that I had enough time (and enough credits, barely) for a drink, I hustled through the crowds of humans and non-humans alike to the shop.
It was more like a kiosk, just a tiny counter with an opening above it. I stepped up to the counter and was greeted by a pretty human woman with shiny black hair and a name tag that read Sophie. She looked slightly familiar, as if I’d seen her before on Terratribe I. But I was probably just imagining it.
“Good morning! What can I get for you?” she said, her smile so cute that I couldn’t help smiling back.
“Coffee, please,” I told her. “Whatever’s quickest, I guess,” I added, casting my eye over a long and slightly intimidating menu.
“Got it. A black Americano, X!” she said, turning slightly. I jolted, noticing the hulking alien male in the shadows behind her, working the espresso machine. He was truly ginormous, two heads taller than Sophie, his bulky shoulders nearly busting the seams of his tight white dress shirt. Two great black horns curved out of the top of his head, and his yellow eyes burned like acid above a terrifyingly fangy snout.
I’d never seen one before, but I was pretty sure I knew what he was: a chimera. One of the Galkor Empire’s genetically modified super soldiers. A mutated monster literally built for fighting. What the hell he was doing in this tiny shop pouring coffees was anyone’s damn guess. I was even more surprised and confused when, as he passed the small cup over to the counter, what looked like a wedding ring glinted on his hand.
Sophie gave him a winsome smile and patted his bulging forearm.
She had a wedding ring, too.
Holy shit. That’s her husband?!
I spent so long looking at the curiously mismatched pair – short and tall, human and alien, smiley and growly – that Sophie had to lift the cup up into my eyeline to get my attention.
“Sorry!” I said, feeling heat creep into my cheeks. “Thank you!”
If Sophie noticed my gaping, she was generous enough not to mention it. Maybe she was used to it. A chimera holed up in a human-run station like this was bound to draw attention. Especially if he’d married one of us.
But, oddly, it made me feel a bit better about what I was about to do. Sophie looked happy with her alien husband. And X… Well, I doubted it was even possible for him to look happy with that frowny sort of snout. But as I backed away from the counter, moving to the side to make room for the next customer, I saw his heavy, dark green tail lift and gently stroke the small of Sophie’s back. Just once; impossibly gentle.
I felt stupid about it, and I blinked them away as quickly as they came, but tears actually sprang to my eyes in that moment. Tears of relief and hope and some kind of sentimental awe at the wholesome cuteness of the couple working together at this beautiful, quaint little shop.
A beautiful, quaint little shop with the best goddamn coffee I’d ever tasted to boot. Since it was only a small coffee, it was gone in an instant. I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth, trying to savour the depth of the flavour before it disappeared. Jittery with nerves and caffeine, I hurried back into one of the orb lifts in the centre of the station.
My coffee run had put me a little behind schedule, so when I finally reached the quieter, less bustling floor where the office I was supposed to visit was located, it was already a couple of minutes after 9am. I raced around the circular floor, almost running right past the non-descript little office. The only reason I slowed down at all was because something pink inside had caught my eye. As I skidded to an awkward stop, my factory boots squeaking on the immaculately clean floor, I realized the pink thing I’d just seen was somebody’s hair, seen through the clear glass of a window.
There were two human women inside the small, bright office, both of them now looking my way. I cleared my throat and wiped my hands on my dirty pants, aware of just how bad I probably looked compared to them as I stepped inside.
Both women were standing, and once again my eye went straight to that pink hair. I’d never seen hair that colour, at least not on Terratribe I. I wasn’t sure I’d ever even seen pink that pretty at all, let alone on somebody’s head. It was shiny and pale, flowing in satin-soft waves over the tall woman’s shoulders. She wore a crisp white pantsuit. Green eyes flashed from a freckled face as she nodded a coolly silent greeting at me.
The other woman was much more welcoming.
“Hey there. I’m Magnolia,” she said with a shy smile. Magnolia was wearing white as well, a strappy sundress that contrasted with the smooth richness of her brown skin. I smiled back at her and tried not to feel too grimy in my uniform.
“Cherry,” I said, holding out my hand to shake human-style.
“Cherry!” Magnolia repeated, her brown eyes widening slightly. “Like, the fruit?”
“Yes,” I said with a laugh. “Most people don’t know that! At least, not on Terratribe I.”
She smiled again, wider this time, showing an adorable gap between her front teeth.
“I’m from Terratribe II,” she explained. “Cherries galore over there. And magnolias. That’s a type of flower.”
“Fruits and flowers. We go well together,” I said, deciding I liked her already. She shook my hand with a friendly firmness, tossing her thick, curly black hair – tied in two long braids – behind her shoulders when she let go.
“I’m Darcy,” the taller woman said. She narrowed her eyes at my outstretched hand but eventually did shake it.
“So I guess you guys are also here for this whole mail-order bride thing?” I asked. I meant it to come out sounding light-hearted, but my voice cracked, turning my words into squeaky staccato.
