NOMAD Episode 2: 'Delphine'

Editor’s note: Once upon a time, readers were hooked on the “serial” - a fictional story printed in short installments in newspapers and magazines. Starting with the Oct. 5 edition of Coeur Voice, we’re reintroducing you to the serial - with a futuristic twist, penned and illustrated by North Idaho’s own Thornbrugh sisters.

Story by KAYE THORNBRUGH

Illustrated by KAMI THORNBRUGH

On NOMAD Station, it was rare to see a human—so when one walked into the cafe, stiff-legged and weary-looking, Delphine paused while wiping down the bar and took notice.

The human woman looked young—around Delphine’s age, somewhere in her twenties. With most other species, it was hard to guess age at a glance. Her complexion was gold-toned, like the sand in Delphine’s terrariums, and her eyes were dark and heavy-lidded. She limped across the cafe in scuffed boots, favoring her right leg.

The motion sensor chimed again and someone pushed through the door after her. Delphine’s practiced smile faltered, just for a second, when she saw who else had come in.

“Kerav,” she called as she pushed past this human woman, smoothing her face into a more neutral expression. Kerav was humanoid, with a blue cast to his skin and a second pair of eyelids; Delphine suspected he hailed from an oceanic world.

“What can I get you today?”

He grabbed two packages of candy from the brightly-colored display near the bar. The pink foil packets crinkled as he dropped them on the bar top in front of Delphine, smiling with semi-translucent teeth.

“Is Hakem around?” he asked.

“Not until tonight.” Delphine worked the morning shift, when Moonrise was a cafe; during the night cycles, it became a bar. Her boss, Hakem, handled the place then.

“Hmm.” Kerav gave her a slow look. “Hey, you hear about that robbery in Green Sector?”

“Yeah.” Everybody had by now. “The shopkeeper landed in medbay. Scary stuff.”

Nearby, the new human lingered in front of a cooler. She pulled out a bottle of bright blue fruit juice and unscrewed the lid. Delphine hoped she intended to pay for it.

“Sounds like you know a lot about it,” Delphine replied.

She turned away from Kerav to rearrange some bottles behind the bar, her metallic hand clinking against the glass. The multicolored liquids glowed faintly under the light. Most of the bottles had labels printed in languages Delphine couldn’t read, though she knew most of them by sight and taste.

“Well, word gets around. There’s all kinds of low-lives running around on this station,” he said lightly. “Real rough types.”

Delphine made a vague noise. “We haven’t had any trouble.”

“Not yet,” Kerak said, pitching his voice a little darker. “Who do you think keeps this sector quiet?”

“I have my theories.”

“Anyway, it’d be a shame if you started running into problems. This is a nice little place you’ve got. We can help you keep it that way.”

When Delphine turned back around, moving to collect the candy packets and hoping he would take the hint, Kerak grabbed her organic wrist—not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make her look at him.

“You’ll talk to Hakem for me, won’t you? Help him see sense.”

“Talk to him yourself.” She tried to twist away from him, but his grip only tightened.

“Hey, now.” His voice was soft, and it made Delphine’s skin crawl. “If Hakem doesn’t want to do business with me, someone else can pay a visit next time. But I think he’ll like me better. I think you will, too.”

“You should get out of here, Kerak,” Delphine said, through her teeth.

“Come on, I’m a paying customer.” With his free hand, he shoved the candy packages toward her again. “Trying to be, anyway.”

Her voice jumped an octave. “Well, I’m the manager, and I’m telling you to go.”

“Let’s not say anything we might regret—” Kerak broke off, swearing when the human woman stumbled into him, bottle spilling from her hands and splashing blue liquid.

“I’m so sorry,” the human babbled, reaching for the edge of the bar to steady herself. Her dark eyes were wide and anxious. “My leg—I slipped, and it just buckled—maker’s teeth, I’m sorry—”

“Watch where you’re going!” Kerak snapped, and the human winced. He peeled off his wet jacket and gave it a cursory shake, whipping juice droplets onto the floor. A tense moment passed, and then he looked back at Delphine. “Talk to Hakem. It’ll be good for you in the long run—I mean it. You know where to find me, Del.”

He left the candy packets on the bar.

When the door chimed behind him, Delphine let out a breath. The human, she noticed, was no longer cringing, but watching the door with serious eyes, like she waiting to see if Kerak would double back.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Delphine said softly. “Probably would’ve been better if you didn’t.”

“Do what?”

“Come on. You think I never saw someone take a fall before?” Delphine would be lying if she said she’d never done it herself, for a grift. She knew what it looked like. That used to be her life, before she came to NOMAD.

The human’s mouth twitched into something approaching a smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, and Delphine noticed that she had a low, pleasant voice.

“I’ve got a bum leg, that’s all.”

Delphine didn’t press it. “What’s your name?” she asked instead.

The human hesitated. “Mik,” she said at last.

“Mik…?”

“Just Mik.”

“Well, I’m Delphine. Can I get you something?”

When Mik studied the glowing menu above the bar, Delphine noticed for the first time that she had a fresh-looking black eye and a garnet scab where her lip had split. She looked like she’d been punched in the face, repeatedly.

“You have coffee?” Mik asked, sounding surprised.

“Sure do,” Delphine said proudly. She rarely sold coffee, except to other humans, and they were few and far between out here; Hakem only stocked the stuff for Delphine. Caffeinated sources arose among the plant life on a distant world as a kind of natural defense against herbivores; some species just couldn’t tolerate it, even if they could get past the bitter taste.

“Coffee, then.” Mik dug a battered credit chip out of her pocket, sliding it across the bar. “Plus that drink I spilled all over the floor.”

Delphine nodded, but she only charged Mik for the coffee. She considered the spilled juice a favor.

“So what brings you to NOMAD?” she asked as she busied herself fixing the drink.

“Just passing through,” Mik said. She hesitated, then sat on the nearest bar stool, maneuvering herself carefully as if it pained her to move. Delphine remembered how Mik had pretended that her leg had given out on her, causing her to fall—but she also remembered how Mik limped into the cafe. Maybe the fall was only half a lie.

“If you’ve got bad tech, you should see my friend Neal,” Delphine said, placing a steaming disposable cup in front of Mik. Their fingers barely brushed as Mik accepted the cup, but Delphine couldn’t feel it; she was using her prosthetic hand. “Mechanic. He works in the port.”

“Tech?”

“Your leg. Neal keeps my arm in good shape—I’m sure he could give you a tune-up.”

Mik’s mouth thinned. “It’s not tech,” she said. “It’s just my leg.”

“Oh. Well, in that case—”

Delphine glanced at the pink foil packets still on the bar. “Who’s he with?” she asked.

“What?”

“The one hassling you earlier. He had a tattoo on his neck.”

“Oh.” Delphine knew what she was referring to: A minimalist tattoo of a planet, surrounded by tiny dots, to represent Siromos and its many moons.

“Heirs of Siromos. They’re a… trade network. You know what I mean.”

“Yeah.” Mik had a grim expression on her face. She dropped her voice a little. “And he wants—what, protection money?”

Delphine stiffened. On this station, it usually wasn’t a good idea to talk about these things in the open. That was what Hakem always said. “What makes you say that?” she asked delicately.

“I know the type, that’s all. They’re like xanthian leeches—once they get a taste, you’ll never be rid of them.”

That was a curious expression, Delphine thought. She wondered where Mik came from, what world she called home. It must be far from here—Delphine couldn’t place her accent.

“It doesn’t matter,” Delphine said at last. She appreciated the sentiment, she supposed, but it was nobody’s business except hers and Hakem’s. “If you’re staying on the station till tomorrow, you should come back during the night cycle. We serve different food then.”

A noncommittal hum was the only response. That was fine; some people came to space station cafes looking to chat, and others came looking to be left alone. Delphine remembered what that was like.

In time, Mik hauled herself upright again, as stiffly as before, and gave Delphine a little nod of acknowledgement before swiveling around to leave. Delphine silently watched her go.

As the door fell shut behind Mik, Delphine’s mind turned back to Kerak and his veiled threats. He would be back, she knew—him, or another of the Heirs of Siromos.

And next time, Mik wouldn’t be there to save her neck. Delphine would have to do that herself.

[How big a threat are the Heirs of Siromos to Delphine—and can Mik keep from getting mixed up with them? Tune in next Saturday for Coeur Voice’s NOMAD: Episode 3.]