they’re alive. But I discreetly film them without commentary.
I also make sure to film their reaction to Zaroc.
They all make sure to get out of his way, and I don’t blame them. The totally relaxed and confident way he moves, his size, his vibrant color – he is obviously one of the more dangerous people around. And he’s clearly attractive – the very few humanoid-ish female aliens I spot can’t take their eyes off him.
I walk beside him, making sure to keep my head down and not look at anyone. Not that there’s much interest – Zaroc hogs the limelight just by existing.
We enter a building that looks like it was made from molten lead, all gray and rounded.
It’s the same on the inside – all is dull and lifeless.
“We need clothing,” Zaroc says loudly.
There’s movement from the back, and then I yelp and hide behind Zaroc’s broad back when a bright yellow jellyfish comes floating through the air, propelled by rotating tentacles that stream behind it.
“Ah,” the jellyfish says via a small electronic device that hangs among the tentacles under it. “For yourself, sir?”
“For this one,” Zaroc says, grabbing my arm and pulling me out in front of him like I’m a distracted toddler.
“Oh,” says the jellyfish and draws closer. It must be incredibly light to float in the air like that. Probably filled with helium. That would explain the voice, too. “I will certainly try. But it is very, very strange. Truly, it is an exotic creature.” It reaches out with thin tentacles and strokes along some of the fabric pieces I’ve tied around me in strategic places. “But it is a female, yes?”
“Yes. She will tell you what she needs. Be quick.”
“Can you speak, alien female?” the jellyfish asks, slowly and carefully. “What. Do. You. Need?”
I look around the bare, smooth walls. “Um. Do you have a catalog or something?”
It stretches a hundred tentacles out at me, from my toes to the top of my head, each one coming within a half inch of touching my skin. Then it does a quick circle around me.
“I think no catalog is needed. From what do you mostly need protection, soft female? From cold temperatures, from moisture, from heat, from other things?”
I’m not a fan of its tone. “All those, alien of uncertain sex,” I reply. “But mostly I need shoes for my feet and maybe pants?”
“Like this?” A life-size hologram of me is projected six feet away, rotating and wearing pants of the same type as Zaroc. And nothing else.
“And a shirt,” I hurriedly suggest. Are my boobs really that big?
“Ah, something like this?”
The hologram is wearing the same pants and a long, white kaftan that covers the fingers and goes all the way up to right under the chin.
“Huh. Maybe a little shorter. And the pants can be a different color. Blue, maybe.”
It takes me a good twenty minutes to get the jellyfish to create one outfit with jeans-like pants, shirt, and sneakers and a more utilitarian jumpsuit-like thing I’ve seen in lots of science fiction movies, including Star Wars.
“If the female has now decided, then we will go to the step of manufacture, sir?”
Zaroc has been half paying attention, but I also noticed him looking out of the small round window in the door we came in.
“Yes, manufacture it.”
The salesjellyfish manipulates the electronic device with two of its tentacles. “Initiated. Anything for sir himself?”
Zaroc looks right at me. “No, no. I only need this one pair of pants. But I wonder, should I turn them into shorts? For the highest of fashion? What is your expert opinion?”
The jellyfish does something that should be impossible: it stiffens in mid-air. “Sir is joking, of course.”
Zaroc gives it a little smile. “Sir is indeed. I’m glad someone gets it. Nothing for me, please. When can you have the female’s items ready?”
“They should be ready now. Perhaps she wishes to try them on?”
Zaroc raises his eyebrows at me. “Does she wish that?”
Turns out I’m not a fan of being talked about in the third person. “Before she does that, she wishes him to know that she can’t pay for anything.”
“He already knows that,” Zaroc says, not skipping a beat. “He figured that out when he first put her in the cage. She was not wearing much. There was no place for her to hide any means of credit. So he will pay, and she doesn’t need to worry about that.”
“Then all right.”
“She will also need a better holster for her gun,”