“Think about it. If you’re describing a Therezian, you’re going to say ‘look for someone who is as tall as a building.’ You might also say what scars he has and hair color, but all that isn’t nearly as important as his height because it’s so obvious. If he could somehow change his height to be normal, he might match every other description you have of the person, but you wouldn’t bother because he’s not the right height.”
I had to admit that seemed fair logic. And it apparently had gotten them safely to Belvaille, though I had to wonder if her ears wouldn’t also be a primary descriptor.
“Is that a present for us?” she asked, pointing to the wrapped package I had.
“No, it’s the metal,” I answered, uncovering the delfiblinium. “Turns out, heh, it’s explosive.” I shrugged playfully, as if it was a wacky inconvenience having a comet-destroying piece of alloy at my feet. “I was hoping Jyonal could magic it away. I can’t even remember what you all gave it to me for.”
“For saving our lives,” Jyen reminded sincerely.
“It’s not magic,” Jyonal said. There was something decidedly more unnerving about him when he was sober. “I change things almost instantaneously, but if it is explosive, there’s a chance it might detonate. I can try, though.”
I quickly covered the metal cube.
“Nah, don’t worry about it. Shouldn’t be a big deal. But to be on the safe side, you probably shouldn’t make any more.”
“We didn’t know it was explosive,” Jyen said.
“It’s fine. I have your guys’ paperwork.”
I handed them each a small stack of documents and cards based on the biodata they had given me on a previous visit.
“Will it matter if I’m orange or blue?” Jyen asked.
“No. Physical appearance never factors in. That stuff is way too easy to change. But if Jyonal goes and makes himself a new body again, that might be a problem. At least for the R.O.M. and Citizenry Doc. It was pretty difficult to get all this stuff, the forgers are really backed up because of the Navy coming. But you guys are now free to move anywhere in the Confederation.”
“Thanks, Hank,” Jyonal said, examining the items thoughtfully. He glanced at his sister.
“You’ve been a tremendous help, and a great friend. But we’re not sure if we want to leave Belvaille.”
I felt myself smiling again as I thought of what to say.
“Oh, yeah?” was all I could come up with.
“We’ve read all about the space station in The News. It’s just the kind of outlaw place where we could fit in. No one will notice us here. If we leave, we’re just going to have to keep running forever.”
“Yeah, Belvaille is at the edge of the galaxy with just one Portal in. And we’re acquainted with the most famous person on the station,” Jyonal added kindly.
I was going to kill Rendrae. Take this hunk of delfiblinium and beat him on the head with it. But this wasn’t going to do. I had to convince these guys to shove off at the earliest opportunity. They were wanted by the military and probably wanted by the Dredel Led and who knows what else.
We spent the night playing cards and having a few glasses of alcohol, which I religiously refused, hoping Jyonal would do the same. He did not.
The poor bastards, having grown up in a laboratory, were virgins when it came to cards. I had to explain every rule. As we played, I tried to slander Belvaille as best I could, hoping to cast it in a darker light. I would have talked up other colonies and cities as better alternatives, but I didn’t really know any.
After a bit, though, I overplayed my hand.
“Do you not want us to stay, Hank?” Jyen asked astutely.
“No, no, it’s nothing like that. I just want you guys to be clear on what the station is really like. I want what’s best for you two. I feel like we’re good friends,” I said.
“Me, too! We have so much in common,” Jyen said enthusiastically.
I gave her a look. I couldn’t think of two people I was more unlike.
“Right. But still, this isn’t the best place in the galaxy. It’s not much better than the facility you grew up in. Everyone here is a prisoner in one way or another.”
“Well, if we left you could come with us,” Jyen said, and she looked at her brother. “We could use your help. You know so much.”
Jyen put her hand on mine and looked into my eyes with those innocent blue orbs of hers.
“I’m just used to it here. And I’m old.”
“You’re not old,” Jyen laughed.
“I’m almost 300,” I said.
“You’re being silly, now,” Jyen said, making an illegal play in the card game.