Greg

Nobody Left Behind 11

Added 2025-04-06 01:56:13 +0000 UTC

Sarsuk's had his pep-talk, but can he apply what he's learned? Let's find out!

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———

With eyes closed, Sarsuk warmed his claws around the hot mug, sniffing the earthy, caramel notes. He touched his cheek to the hot ceramic and then his lips. After delaying just as long as he could manage, he sucked at the mug’s rim until he pulled in a small gulp, then he let the bitter brew play around his tongue, exhaling into his closed mouth and waiting for the air to pick up the scent before pushing it up the back of his throat and out through his nostrils.

“Do you like it?” asked Siki, sounding a little frustrated with how long this tasting process took.

The krakun ignored her for another thirty seconds as he repeated the process over and over before finally swallowing. He opened his eyes. “Hrm,” he said, “if javea was a car, then this is a platform with wheels.”

Siki’s ears drooped in a frown. “You hate it.”

“No, I don’t,” he corrected. “It’s just… It’s like this is the very fundamental minimum of what javea is, without all the layers of amazing wonder that can be built over it.”

“You’re disappointed.”

“No, I’m not!” he insisted with a grin. “I’m grateful. I really appreciate you doing this for me. I wish I could share with you a sample of the javea I really love, but it would surely be deadly to geroo.”

Siki nodded and stored her watering can beside the potted plant she used as camouflage. When she returned, she sat back on her stool, saying, “I guess you never asked him out.”

“Hrm?” asked Sarsuk, shaken from his thoughts of a triple shot, whipped, Mocha Sulfusion.

“You said you never would have gotten into this mess, if you’d just asked him out,” explained Siki. “Ashiok, I mean.”

With eyes unfocused, he thought back for a while before answering. “I didn’t see him again.”

Her ears drooped lower. “Oh, that’s so sad.”

But Sarsuk just smiled. “Never say never…”

# # #

“I’m a geroo. I’m a geroo,” Sarsuk repeated quietly to himself. A vile mantra if there ever was one, but he really wanted to make this work.

Or so he told himself. He futzed around the apartment so long, preparing himself, that suited members of his cleaning crew peeked out of the airlock to see if he’d finally left for work yet.

Oh jeez, look at the time. I’m running late, he said to himself. Solar Bark will be packed by now. There’ll be a line and Ashiok won’t have time to socialize.

He bit his lip and stared at the tiny airlock leading to the slave’s barracks as yet another helmeted geroo peeked out before ducking back inside. I really hope they didn’t hear my mantra, or worse, that … disastrous attempt at hopping…

Regardless, there’s no time today. I’ll just have to be a geroo tomorrow. Yes, that’s it. Tomorrow is the day.

At the spaceport, the yellow krakun had almost fallen asleep. And when she tapped his shoulder, he’d nearly snapped at her, but something stopped him. “Is this the waiting area for the elevator?” asked the beautiful krakun.

He scrunched his brow at such a ridiculously vapid question. What else could it be? There were signs everywhere, and the gates for the direct flights were on the opposite end of the spaceport, but when he turned toward her, he paused.

For just the briefest of moments, the krakun beside him reminded him of Noke. It wasn’t her, the lover he still fantasized about these thousands of years later, not her alluring voice, not even her amazing colors, but something less tangible. She radiated something, something fearless that the galaxy had yet to trample.

Unable to speak, he nodded.

“Oh, thank the dead gods,” she sighed. “I’ve never had to commute to space before, and it’s got me flustered. I don’t want to mess up!”

Why are you explaining this to me? Who does that? he wondered. You wanted to know if this was the elevator, and I said it was, so why—?

“Today’s going to be my first day at Splendor, and I just don’t know what to expect.”

Sarsuk’s mouth hung open slightly. Was she having a conversation with him? Why? What should he say? “The novelty wears off pretty quick,” he muttered.

He was so disappointed in himself that he wanted to chop his own head off, like a common criminal. Only the night before, Dennydr had warned him about his surliness.

“Well, which is it?” he’d asked her. “Do you want me to ‘be myself’ or ‘be more positive’?”

“Both!” she’d laughed. The green krakun had a great laugh. “I want you to become the guy who shares his positive thoughts and keeps most of the negative ones to himself.”

She’d squeezed his claw. “We all need to vent from time to time, but Ashiok’s not going to want to hear an endless string of gripes—nobody does. If complaining is all you do, then he’ll find other things to do with his spare time.”

Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! You finally get a chance to talk to a beautiful gal, and you screw it up with the first words out of your big stupid mouth! She’s probably never talk to you again, you stupid, stupid—!

“I suppose, but it sure is exciting today!” she said with the warmest of smiles.

Holy crap! She’s still talking to me. I get a second chance. Don’t screw this up! Say something nice. Compliment her. “New job, eh? Congratulations,” he offered, then sighed in relief. Good! Good! Stay upbeat. “Do they still have openings? I think I’m overdue for a career change.”

“Oh, are you in retail sales too?” she asked.

Sarsuk’s smile faltered a bit. Why did you say that? You idiot! He covered with, “Oh, Splendor! That jewelry outlet in orbit?” His cheeks reddened with embarrassment. “I was thinking… I don’t know what I was thinking. I haven’t had any javea this morning.”

“Oh, you poor guy,” she said, touching his shoulder again with a soft claw. “And here I am, prattling along about my life.”

“It’s fine, really,” he assured her.

“Let me buy you a cup,” she said, looking about for one of the major chains. “Is there a Bitter Brew or a Javea Joint here in the terminal?”

“Yeah, but they’re…” he pointed toward the concourses, “way on the other side of the port. We could miss the elevator. Our side only gets that … junky vending machine.” He gestured dismissively to the brown box that shat out a cup most of the time before it dispensed old, burnt-tasting sludge.

“That’ll work,” she said, tapping her communicator against the order screen. The box whirred, spun, coughed out a paper cup, then pissed a stream of hot brown liquid inside it. “Hot! Hot!” she warned as she carefully extracted the steaming cup from its cradle.

Sarsuk stared at the offered beverage, stunned and confused. She was … giving a stranger a gift? He looked her up and down. Her body was long and slender and glossy, with scales that varied from white on her belly to yellow to bright orange to coal black on her back. She wore a scale polish with bits of well-placed reflective ultraviolet that gave her a shimmering flame effect. In a word, she was breathtaking.

So, why is she being nice to me? he wondered. He looked about to see if anyone was watching them, but no one was. Being seen with him would hurt her status, not help it. And he certainly had no money, no lofty position she could try to steal or leverage. So … why? He carefully accepted the cup and gave it a sniff before whispering, “Thanks. That’s bound to help.”

And they spoke all the way up the elevator—not about anything important or personal, they just kinda … chit-chatted. But before they went their separate ways, she asked if he’d be going to festival nights.

“I … uh … hadn’t really planned to.” Sarsuk smiled and studied her from the corner of his eyes. “But then again, there hadn’t been a reason I’d want to go. Now, if you were going, that would be plenty of reason…”

He held his breath, terrified that he’d overreached, but she’d offered him the chance, and today he was a geroo. He could die tomorrow.

Instead of offended, Nyakkat—he’d learned her name on the trip up—gave him a wink. “Well, if you are going,” she said, “then that would be plenty of reason for me too.”

She tapped her communicator against his to leave him her contact information, then waved goodbye before heading off to work.