Page 7 of Solar Bound
And if Dani Ember's biorhythms proved as compatible as his initial readings suggested, perhaps he could complete the meaningful connection portion of his mission sooner than expected.
As he walked, Solar noticed his skin was glowing more brightly beneath the skin-suit. Tiny motes of golden light escaped around the edges. He forced himself to dampen his emissions, though it went against his natural instincts. On Zorveya, a warrior proudly displayed his light, especially when approaching a potential mate.
These Earth protocols were frustratingly restrictive. How would she know to accept his offer if she couldn’t see its immense glow?
A loud commotion drew his attention. Humans had gathered around a street performer, an elderly male wearing elaborate ceremonial garments decorated with feathers and beads. Now, this was a man who knew how to dress. The performer was speaking loudly about ancient alien visitors and celestial wisdom.
Solar moved closer, curious about these claims of extraterrestrial contact.
"The star people have always come to guide us," the human said, his voice carrying across the gathering. "They taught my ancestors the secrets of the universe, and they walk among us still, watching, waiting for the right moment to reveal themselves once more."
Several humans in the crowd nodded in agreement, while others exchanged skeptical glances. Solar found the entire scene fascinating. These humans seemed to simultaneously believe in and doubt the existence of extraterrestrial intelligence. How did they function with such cognitive dissonance?
The street performer spotted Solar and fixed him with an intense stare. "You! I sense cosmic energy in you, brother. Come forward and let the crowd feel your vibrations."
Solar froze. Had his skin-suit malfunctioned? Was his natural luminescence visible to this perceptive human?
Before he could retreat, the performer grabbed his arm and pulled him into the center of the gathering. "See how he glows with inner light. This one understands the star wisdom!"
The crowd murmured with interest. Several humans pointed recording devices at him. Solar felt his fight-or-flight response activating. If his true nature were exposed, the mission would be compromised.
"I must go," he said firmly, pulling his arm free.
"The star people are shy," the performer declared. "They hide their true nature until we are ready to receive their full glory."
Solar backed away from the gathering, keeping his head down and his emissions tightly controlled. This was exactly the kind of attention Eclipse had warned them to avoid. If the footage of him spread through Earth's primitive information networks, their cover could be blown.
He needed to find a less conspicuous location to continue his reconnaissance. According to the information device, there was a place called Alien Arts Village nearby. Perhaps there he could blend in more effectively among the commercial activities.
As Solar made his way toward this new destination, he couldn't help reflecting on the irony of the situation. The elderly human had been correct about aliens walking among the crowds, yet his theatrical presentation had made the truth seem like an absurd performance.
Earth was turning out to be more complex than he'd anticipated. Their primitive technology and chaotic social structures masked surprising insights and perceptions. And some individuals, like the fire manipulator Dani, displayed capabilities that hinted at a greater potential than their species' overall development level would suggest.
Tonight's interaction at the Crash Zone would provide more data. And perhaps, though Solar was reluctant to admit it even to himself, something more than mere mission objectives.
The thought of watching Dani dance with fire created a pleasant resonance. Yes, this investigation warranted his personal attention. After all, he was a warrior of the Solarus Elite Guard. And warriors always pursued their objectives with unwavering focus, even when those objectives involved fiery Earth females with challenging attitudes and intriguing energy signatures.
Chapter
Three
Fire had rules. Rules Dani had spent years learning, respecting, and occasionally bending just enough to make it dance. Fire demanded precision. Focus. Respect. Three things most people in her life had never given her.
"Hey, firegirl!" Mike, the bar owner, called from behind the counter as Dani hauled her equipment through the back door of The Crash Zone. "You're early."
"Need to set up," she answered, dropping her duffel bag beside the small stage area. "The rig needs adjusting after last week's close call."
Mike winced. "Yeah, don't need another singed eyebrow situation. Bad for business."
"Bad for my face," Dani corrected, pulling out her tools. The ceiling rig needed reinforcing, and she wasn't about to trust anyone else to do it. Too many fire performers trusted their safety to others. Dani trusted herself, her tools, and the fire. Nothing else.
The Crash Zone was still quiet this early, hours before the Friday night UFO enthusiast crowd would descend with their tinfoil hats and wild theories. Dani preferred it this way, just her and the muffled sounds of Mike stocking the bar, the occasional clink of bottles like a comforting metronome as she worked.
Her performance area was a circular clearing in the center of the bar, surrounded by tables set at a safe distance. Above it hung her custom-designed rig. It was a series of reinforced anchor points that allowed her to suspend various fire props for the more impressive parts of her routine. It wasn't fancy, but it was functional, and more importantly, it was hers.
As she climbed the stepladder to reach the ceiling mounts, Dani's mind wandered to the strange man from that morning. Solar. What kind of name was that? Probably some stage name for yet another Burning Man performer thinking they could waltz into Duskrock and claim territory.
But there had been something different about him. The way he'd studied her fire tools with genuine curiosity, not the fake interest she got from guys trying to hit on her. And those strange compliments, "your technical execution exceeded basic competency parameters." Who talked like that?
