Crystal Heat

2

Hair flying, feet kicking through the intricate patterns of the voor tikeri, Lylunda sucked on the pelar pipe and danced to and away from Qatifa, the Caan she’d run across watching the knife cotillion at the Pertarn Darah arena. She’d shucked the neck-to-ankle cover of her disguise and wore her play clothes, a black-washed-to-gray T-shirt sliced to ragged fringe for the bottom six inches, some ancient cutoffs that she-hadn’t bothered to hem, plus a pair of supple footgloves with roughened soles to give traction for the dancing. The pelar bowl was tucked into the T-shirt’s pocket and bounced with her breasts so she had to keep her teeth clamped on the stem or she’d lose it. Now and then she grinned at Qatifa and blew a cloud of dreamsmoke in her face.

Qatifa’s plush fur was a dark chocolate brown with russet and occasionally gold glimmers when the light hit it in just the right way. It smelled faintly like cinnamon, was impossibly soft, and was matchless as a teaser against bare skin, at least in Lylunda’s view of such things. The Caan’s eyes were narrowed to slits against a puff of smoke, the light catching glimmers of gold in the darkness of her round blunt face.

When the music stopped, they elbowed back to the chip of a table they’d claimed, settled into the instruments of pain the Tangul Cafй had attached to the tables, mislabeling them as chairs. Qatifa rolled her tongue and cut through the noise with a whistle that brought the tiny jaje waiter scrambling over to them.

“Double shot of Nibern for me, mineral water for that dancing fool across from me.” She waved away Lylunda’s motion to pay and dropped a credit chip in the jaje’s palm…

“How you can drink that syrup?” Lylunda shuddered.

“How you can smoke that crap?” Qatifa chuckled, a rumble, deep in her chest. “I like sweets. You should know, gula-mi. One splendid thing about skin people, you can smear them with all sorts of lovely goo and lick it off without getting fur in your teeth.” An ear twitched. “The sale came through just before you called, Luna. I’m out of here before the next pay cycle at the tie-down. Which means a couple hours and see-ya.”

Lylunda grimaced. Before she could respond, the waiter was back with their order. She took the flask of bubbling water and gloomed at it. “It’s been fun,” she said finally. “Maybe we could do it again sometime.”

“That’s what you said the last time. You should work on your valedictions a bit, gula-mi.” Qatifa’s grin faded. She gulped down a mouthful of the Nibern, sat chewing on the fruit. “Luna, my friend, I’ve heard a rumor or two. Why don’t you tandem your ship on-mine and come fool around a while with me on Acaanal?”

Lylunda smiled. However much she liked Qatifa, she’d be jumping out of her skin by her second week of undiluted Caan company. “Thanks, Qat. I’ve got commitments elsewhere, but I appreciate the thought.”

Qatifa looked at the glass, wrinkled her blunt nose. “I’d better go pee ’f I don’t want to disgrace myself next time we hit the floor. Besides, the hornman promised me a slow dance and it’s about time he came through on that.”

Alternating sips of the water with draws on the pipe, Lylunda watched the tall femme undulate through the closely packed tables, using the tips of her claws on hopeful hands trying to cop a feel of Caan fur. For a moment she was tempted to change her mind and go with Qatifa, but common sense returned when the sleekly graceful form vanished behind a bead curtain.

She felt something brush against her neck and turned to see the back of a man moving away from her, a stranger as far as she could tell. When nothing else happened, she forgot about him and let the pelar float her off to a place where she wasn’t worried about anything.

The man calling himself Exi Exinta came out of the drifts of smoke and stood beside her. “Come with me,” he said.

Larr off, Ziz, she thought, then was startled as her body rose and walked after him. What the… Zombi! That snake shot me up with Zombi juice. She drew in a breath to yell, but Exinta heard and turned. “Be quiet,” he said.

Her throat closed and the words died there as she shuffled after him, the pelar countering the Z-juice enough to let her drag her feet. She contrived to bump heavily into tables, to slam into people, to swing her arms so she knocked over drinks, creating a commotion that set Exinta cursing under his breath as he grabbed her arm and tried to hustle her along faster.

Lylunda fixed her eyes on the door, sweat coiling down her face, fear and rage knotting her insides. It drew closer and closer. She tried to pull loose, but the hold of the drug was too strong even with all the pelar in her system. Her tongue was locked, she couldn’t even form words, let alone say them.

“Oy! Luna. Where you going? Huh?” Qatifa’s voice, filled with anger and alarm.

Exinta yanked on her arm. They were almost to the door. She managed to turn her head, to open her mouth. She couldn’t speak… not a word… not a word…

Golden eyes widened as Qatifa understood what was happening. “Zombi,” she roared, her voice cutting through the noise of instruments tuning and the undertone of conversation, shocking the place to silence. She came plunging through the tahles, claws out, mouth stretched in a threat snarl, teeth glistening in the light from the pseudo torches.

Exinta ran for his life, diving under the arm of a peacer ’bot that came clanking into the cafй.

Most of the crowd in the Tangul faded as the ’bot hummed over to Lylunda and clamped his cuff claw around her wrist. Qatifa patted her cheek. “Gula-mi, don’t take this wrong, but I can’t afford to get hung up.” Then she faded with the rest.