“If you can do this, why is my presence here necessary?” Skiria asked Lora as they were on their way down to the surface.
Lora chuckled. “Because I am just a mind in a ship. Resicor has not connected me to the worlds we are landing on. That is for you to do. I cannot press my palm to their skin and make the connection with a burst of power. You can.”
Tyvor grinned. “She is not wrong. You are the component, the living representation of your people and their need for help. You have to be the one to land and to meet the Avatars. They will not accept a messenger, it has to be the Ambassador of Resicor and they know what they are looking for.”
Their flicker had not caused an energy pulse; they had moved with only a ripple of power to mark their arrival; the merest whisper of energy marked their appearance.
Lora scanned the surface of Harlisk and located the Avatar by the power signature alone. Apparently, it was unmistakable.
“I will land and let you out. Take as long as you need. I am filtering the signals to absorb the latest music from the far reaches of space.”
Skiria watched their smooth and deliberate landing. “That sounds like fun.”
“When you are a mind in a ship, you spend time making up hobbies.” Lora chuckled as they approached the smooth, sandy surface of the planet.
“Where were you built?”
Lora coughed through her speakers. “I would prefer not to say. I would have to divulge my age and that just isn’t something I am willing to do. A lady has her secrets, even a big metal one.”
As the ship settled, Lora said, “Near the entryway you will find a wardrobe and the clothing hanging on the front of the racks is for each of you. We want you dressed appropriately. After we finish here, the next clothing will come to the fore and you will wear it. Proper clothing for each job.”
Skiria blinked. “That is a Linz-family motto.”
“Is it? It is still true. Now, go and get changed. The Avatar is on her way and she will be here within the hour. It should take you half of that to get into your clothing.”
Tyvor cleared his throat. “I don’t require additional clothing.”
“You are not leaving this ship until you are properly attired, and if Skiria is ready, she is going to meet the Avatars. You can either back her up or you can sit inside and pout.”
Tyvor blinked. “I wasn’t briefed on that.”
“Raygar-Salass thought you might balk if your fashions were not under your control. It was decided that I would tell you…now.”
Skiria unclipped her harness and went in search of the wardrobe. Curiosity drove her and there was a whole new world on the other side of that costume. It wasn’t like she was going to have to deal with these folks more than once. She was content to wear whatever it took to get Resicor one step closer to her goal.
After a few minutes of exploring, she found the hangers with the variety of clothing hanging in a straight line with the first costume being front and centre. The sign above the hanger wore the word
Skiria
in elegant Resicoran script.
The clothing was dark purple and had a wide sash. Lora was right; it wasn’t going to be easy to get into it. A small image was hung around the base of the hanger to show her how to fit it. When she tapped the small picture, it projected into a hologram with an image of her current clothing on one side and her dressed image on the other. It was all the help Lora could offer.
Carrying the imager, the hanger and her dignity, Skiria headed for the change room behind the rack of clothing with her name on it. Based on the image she was seeing projected, this was not going to be a simple clothing change.
It took her nine tries and she was sticky with sweat before she finished a reasonable replica of the initial image. The comparison of her target and current images, front and back, made her confident that she had gotten as close as she could without assistance.
The dress covered her but outlined everything, and the sandals that she was wearing would never be strong enough for more than a light walk on a sidewalk. No cross-country in this outfit.
Sighing, she exited the change room to see Tyvor waiting for her in a silver sleeveless bodysuit trimmed in dark purple. The detail and fit on the suit was amazing.
“My eyes are up here, Ambassador.”
Blushing, she lifted her gaze from his groin and bit her lip. “Apologies. I am sure that there is something in there that will be just as awkward for me to wear.”
He shrugged. “This isn’t awkward. This is festival gear for Salass; however, I am aware of what your culture considers appropriate attire, and I am aware that this is a little outside your norms. There is no sense in your surprise to be taken by me as anything other than prurient curiosity.”
“How about sincere admiration?”
He grinned. “That I will accept. You look…constrained.”
With the little breath she could draw, she chuckled. “That is a mild word for it. Come on, I don’t know how much oxygen I can process with this on. Lora, is the Avatar here?”
“She is waiting on the ridge. There is no escort for her, so you can approach her directly. That will not always be the case, but you are lucky on this first contact. Harlisk is said to be reasonable.”
That phrase seemed odd to Skiria, but she walked to the door and it opened before she could touch it.
“Thank you, Lora.”
“You are welcome. I am plotting the path to the next world as I speak. I promise that there is at least one comfortable outfit in the first five.” The chuckle sounded hollow when the ship extended the plank down to the surface.
Tyvor came up next to Skiria and smiled. “Ready, Ambassador?”
She sighed. “Ready.”
She lifted the hem of the skirt and stepped onto the ramp, heading out onto the alien dunes while the dust and sand swirled around her feet. The suns pounded on her skin, and she could only imagine how uncomfortable Tyvor was. He was used to a damper atmosphere.
The ridge that Lora had mentioned was half a kilometer away, and a woman in a gold and black gown that matched Skiria’s was standing and waiting for them.
Skiria walked up the steep path, the sand slipping under her sandals and clawing at the bottom of her feet. She made it to the top of the ridge and stood a few feet away from the Avatar. The woman looked at her curiously, but the power rippled around her.
“Greetings, Avatar of Harlisk.”
The woman smiled. “Greetings, Ambassador of Resicor. I was expecting someone a little more imposing.”
Skiria smiled. “I was all she could arrange on short notice.”
The Avatar barked a laugh, and her dark brown eyes took on a gold swirl. “I await contact with my sister.”
Skiria extended her hands, palms up.
The Avatar smiled and placed her hands over the offered limbs.
“I look forward to accepting children of Resicor onto my world.”
Skiria was surprised, but the Avatar pressed their hands together, and the release of power blew them both apart.
Tyvor caught Skiria, and she looked up at him with a weak smile. “We just need to make sure she is up and then we can go.”
He lifted her in his arms, and they watched the Avatar as she lay in the sand. After a few minutes, she sat up with a blissful smile. “Thank you for your efforts, Ambassador. The link between Resicor and Harlisk is strong. Thank you for coming.”
The Avatar levitated to her feet and flew off toward distant dunes.
Tyvor walked back toward the
Mind Strike
with Skiria in his arms. “That seemed simple.”
She closed her eyes and leaned against his chest. A second ring was now lit and active in her mind. “Sure. It barely hurt at all.”
Darkness swam up and claimed her.
The ship was moving and she was strapped to a bed…again.
“Good, you are awake. I swear that low blood sugar of yours is really annoying. You need to keep an eye on it.” Lora’s voice was cheerful.
A small door opened on one side of the wall and a robot chirped and wheeled in, balancing a tray on his flat head. He unclipped the strap around her waist and she was able to sit up.
The purple dress was gone and she was wearing a sheet again. She took the tray from the bot with a murmur of thanks and sat back against the wall to fix her feeble body issue.
A knock on the door sounded as she was finishing her tea. She tucked her sheet under her arms for security and called out, “Come in.”
Tyvor entered and he was carrying a new outfit with him. His own tight trousers and boots looked excellent on him.
“I didn’t know you had a tattoo.”
He laughed. “Of course you didn’t. Now, we are in orbit around Nearhall, and according to Lora, you are going to need some help getting into this one. It tends to stick.”
Looking at his outfit, she wasn’t confident about leaving the ship wearing anything on the hanger. It looked like shreds of silk from her point of view.
He reached behind the hanger and removed another pair of sandals, but these were strappy and would reach to her knees. “Stick your feet out and I will get started.”
Bemused, she set her teacup aside and gathered the sheets so that her legs were the only thing exposed.
“I treated your wounds. Landing and walking in sand tore open the bottoms of your feet.” Tyvor glanced up at her with his solid black eyes. “Why didn’t you mention it?”
“Nerves. I just wanted to get it over with.”
“In the future, if your clothing wounds you, let me know. I could have carried you to the meeting.”
The mental image of him carrying her up the hill to the meeting made her smile. “I don’t think that would have made a good first impression. Apparently, the planets were expecting a more impressive ambassador. I fall flat.”
“You are carrying the link that Resicor needs to carry out her plan. Salass is on board and now so is Harlisk. That is two out of the thirty that Lora says you need. Let’s get you dressed and go out to bag the third.” He finished lacing up the sandals and patted her knee. “The skirt does not lend itself to undergarments, so you will have to expose yourself a little in order to get dressed. I will try to look as little as possible.”
Skiria watched as he took the skirt off the hanger, and when she couldn’t put it off any longer, she flipped back the sheets and got to her feet.
Tyvor stared with the fluttering fabric in his hands.
She blushed. “I thought you said you wouldn’t look.”
He smiled slowly, his amusement reaching his eyes as he met her gaze. “I said I would look as little as possible. I am not quite done yet, but I will bide my time.”
His hands moved efficiently, and soon, she was dressed in layers of light, fluttering silks that would expose her completely in a brisk breeze.
“It isn’t practical and would never stand up to a rainstorm, but underwater, this could be very pretty.” Tyvor caressed the contrast between her shoulder and the silk.
“Well, I suppose we had better get down to the surface. I get the feeling that this clothing could dissolve if you keep drooling like that.” Skiria snorted and edged past Tyvor and into the hallway. A quick check and she was headed for the command deck.
His steady footfalls behind her made her walk a little more quickly, but she slowed down the moment that she felt the skirts lift with her movements.
Lora commented. “Smooth the skirts out before you sit or you will crease. This is a short flight, but we don’t want to mess up that pretty outfit.”
“Yes, Mother.”
Lora snorted. “You are pretty far off there. Anyway, now that your personal dresser has joined us, we can be on our way down. They have a party planned for you, just so you know. This one will not be quick, but keep away from the Avatar’s hands. He enjoys a nice-looking female, and you are being offered as a representative of Resicor.”
“Offered?”
“Think of it more as displayed. He may get a little grabby but that is what Tyvor is for, oh, and of course the stunning on contact that is your current purview.”
Tyvor buckled in and winked at her. “I live to assist you in completing your mission. With this one, I look forward to a hands-on approach.”
She gave him a narrow-eyed look, but they were on their way down to the surface, and she was hanging on to the armrests and trying not to crease her clothes, such as they were. She had other things to do, like wondering what kind of social structure went along with being nearly naked.
Tyvor muttered next to her. “I think you got the better of the clothing. At least your skin can breathe.”
The humidity was intense, but the regular breezes lifted and caressed the silk. She whispered. “As long as the breezes don’t increase, I am content with the clothes for this assignment.”
They were walking through a mix of dark jungle and curious locals. The women were dressed in a minimalist manner that mimicked Tyvor’s clothing. Skiria was the only one lucky enough to be fully exposed to the breezes.
A wide platform made of polished wood rose in the centre of the forest. Skiria admired the structure as she stepped onto the platform with her skirt shifting out of the way for clear passage.
The Avatar was sitting at a small table set for two. He rose to his feet, and Skiria had a hard time finding a safe place to look. Naked seemed to be a popular choice on Nearhall.
“Welcome, Ambassador. You are welcome in peace and calm.” He walked toward her with both hands extended.
“Thank you, Avatar. You are aware that the contact will be a little abrupt on your end?”
He smiled. “All here is serene and perhaps after the communion, we may join our bodies in celebration.”
She blinked in surprise. “Uh…I am not…I am certain that it is against the beliefs of my people.”
Tyvor stepped forward and his arm fins were out. “Mine as well. She is not to engage in any sexual activity while on her mission. It would not be sound.”
The Avatar frowned. “That is disappointing. Ah, well. I suppose that we shall get to the point of things.”
With a sigh of relief, Skiria held out her hands and felt the surge of power as well as the reception of energy from Nearhall. He stumbled backward and landed on his butt, his erection pointing skyward.