Manipulate (Book 1, Alien Cadets)

Chapter 12

“Ouch, that looks bad.”

“Well, it means I’ll get better, so I can live with it. I like your boots, too.”

“Thank you!” Shara glowed. “I love fashion. I’d like to start my own line someday.”

“Really? Are you a designer?”

“Yes, for a few years. Just grunt work so far, but I have my first big job now. You’ll never believe this…it’s with the aliens,” she whispered.

“The spooks? Do they like fashion?”

“Oh, they don’t really care. But they want the cadets to look a certain way. I’m doing research and then I get to design a uniform for them! I’m so excited. I even suggested that while I’m at it I could design something better for the aliens, and they said go ahead. Can you believe it?”

“That’s amazing. My sister…” Akemi blinked a bit, “she’s one of the cadets. Maybe you’ll meet her.”

“Oh my goodness.  What are the odds? Tell me all about her,” Shara said.

***

July 4th

Less than twenty-four hours later Sam leaned against the side of a fortune telling booth watching Downy make a fool of himself.

“We should definitely not be here,” Sam said again. “This isn’t safe, and it’s not necessary either.” He gave a half groan as he stretched his arms over his head and then slumped back against the booth. He’d told all this to Greg and been overruled. Sam wanted to look into who had the resources and motivation to kill five cadets scattered around the world. And who wanted so very much for Earth to lose the trial.

Instead he was at a cheap Fourth of July festival. Two mobile carnivals were sharing space in a huge, muddy field, with lots of neon-lit rides and loud motors. A tall, plywood stage stood next to the game booths, where a country music group was finishing a song. They left, probably to get beer and corn dogs, and their absence lowered the noise level a fraction. The other cadets seemed to be enjoying themselves, which was good, because there were press in the crowd. There were also about twice as many security people as before, and all the cadets had been fitted with GPS trackers. But Sam still didn’t like it.

The Ferris wheel on his right inched along letting people on and off, while the kids at the top yelled and rocked their cars. It was dusk and the lights of the rides and booths were starting to shine in the darkness. Red, blue, and yellow lights decorated the spinning cups, while the merry-go-round shone mainly yellow. All combined, the light cast a pinkish glow over the whole place.

“We’re celebrating July the fourth, that’s why we’re here.” Downy paused.

“Wow. What is this? What. Is. This?”  Downy turned pink in wonder, almost the same color as the cotton candy swirling around in the pot next to him.

“It’s cotton candy,” said the man running the cart. He swirled some on a cardboard cone. His beard was long, tied in two bunches against his chest. “You want some – four bucks.”

Downy pulled out a ten. “I would like two. Purple and pink.”

The guy jerked his head at the sign on his cart. “Three for ten.”

Downy smiled, stretching his dolphin smile and showing teeth. “That is excellent.”

Downy held pink in his left hand and purple and yellow in his right as they walked away. “Oooh,” he moaned. “This is wonderful. Really wonderful. If you pass the trial this should be one of your first cultural exports. It would establish your Level 8 ranking for sure.”