Location: Bazaar Base 4
Aliens: Human, Arthropoid, Cervicon
“You wanna see something…unique?” the shop owner asked. I had been absorbed, studying a piece of Sauropsidian pottery and nearly dropped it in surprise. He sidled closer and dropped his voice, “Something you won’t see anywhere else. Guaranteed.” His antennae roved around and his head swiveled, checking to make sure we were alone.
This was not my first time aboard Bazaar Base 4. Every shop, with its little curio cabinets and odds and ends from across the galaxy all had one thing in common. Something “unique”, something “you have to see to believe.” They were typically a dubiously taxidermied creature or a piece of stone that was said to be from a long lost civilization. These one-of-a-kind cliches were great for yokels who made their vacation destination a floating flea market. But to a discerning collector such as myself, I had seen them all before.
“No thank you,” I say. He bounced away on his springboard legs, grumbling to himself. I picked up the pot again. He had it marked up, but still not nearly as high as what it was actually worth. These were my favorite finds. What the shopowner thought was a good grift worked in my favor. They felt accomplished they had swindled someone and I walked away with enough to buy food for a month. A win-win if I ever saw one.
I haggled with the shopkeep, just for good measure. He refused to budge. I wasn’t really worried with paying any less, but he might get suspicious if I accepted it at face value. Especially an Arthropoid. They have adept ways of reading other races. “I’ll tell you what,” he said, scratching below his mandibles absent-mindedly. “I won’t go down on the pot. But I will show you the backroom display for free.” Not this again, I thought. He was desperate for anyone to see his cobbled together chimera. It must be new, I thought.
“Very well,” I said after pretending to deliberate. I sent him the money and he firmly placed the pot in my hands. I could have just left, but I got a little nagging feeling. It’s a sort of sixth sense (or 8th, depending on what race you are) among collectors and dealers. Little tugs of curiosity, tiny nudges to follow a lead. It typically didn’t amount to much, more superstition than anything, but I decided to give in. The shopkeep beckoned me around the counter and behind a green curtain.
He had been holding out on me, the cretin. Behind the curtain were plenty of antique pieces. But these were likely ones he knew the actual value of and didn’t part with easily. I thought this was where the hunch had led me. The shopkeep told me to keep up and hopped further down the hall. He paused outside of a door. Now my hunch was telling me he was a serial killer and I was the dumbest mark he’d had yet. He gently knocked on the door and a grunt told him to come in. The door creaked open and a bright purple light seeped out into the hallway. It lay in a line across my eye. I felt a wave of contentment roll over me. I nearly dropped the vase again, this time because I felt like I might fall asleep at any moment.
The shopkeeper pushed the door the rest of the way open and inside, nearly as large as the room, was a tall, lithe creature. Branching horns jutted from its head, which sported three round, iridescent eyes. I think I wanted to be afraid, but I wasn’t. I had forgotten what fear even felt like. I took a step forward. “Welcome,” it said. I looked down and saw three or four other people laying on a layer of pillows. They were all smiling vacantly.
“He charges by the hour,” the Arthropoid was telling me. I chuckled, taking another step closer. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt that good. Like taking a warm bath and eating a full meal, like being held and being told you’re loved, all at the same time. The shopkeeper slowly shut the door and I felt that joy drain away from me. The air felt frigid and the dark seemed to spill into the vacuum left by the leaving light. “That’s all you get for free,” the shopkeep said. “You can come back tomorrow if you want.”
“Here,” I said, digging around for my display. “I’ll pay for a full hour now.”
“Tomorrow,” he said and patted my arm, gently nudging me back towards the front of the store. “He’s got his limits, y’know.” I kept looking back over my shoulder as we left the dusty darkness of the back area, hoping just a little more light might leak out.
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