Galaxy's End: Book One LeRoy Clary (dark books to read TXT) 📖

“So, you finally ask me what I want?”

She smiled at him. “It’s the beer, right? Your head hurts?”

He scowled and then said gruffly, “Buy me something nice to wear that is not blue like these baggy robes. When I go off into space, I like to be dressed for it.”

I opened the door at the top of the stairs enough to peer outside wearing a smile. It indeed looked like a shopping mall. Different stores for different luxury items. I saw only one pair of strolling police and they were distracted by tourists disembarking from a passenger tunnel for a ship that had recently landed. The tourists were generally old, probably from a retirement planet, and were probably on a cruise or tour of tourist planets, and for that Roma certainly qualified.

I closed the door and remembered to turn and memorize what it looked like from the other side and note where it was located. A clock mounted high on a wall said two, which was the local time. The Dreamer left at six. I had plenty of time.

A shop directly ahead sold luggage. I entered, chin up, shoulders back, and used a scant bit of my mental powers to ease the minds of the two clerks as to my appearance as a priest or novice. I eventually purchased four large travel cases and accepted a control badge to wear on my lapel that allowed the luggage to follow me. The signal connected the luggage with the badge.

The shopkeeper, a short, furry male with an attitude, curled his upper lip as he examined my tattered priest’s robe and asked, “Why does a person of your order need expensive luggage?”

I realized I’d made a mistake in purchasing the luggage first. I said, along with a small push from my mind that he should believe my words, “They are not for me, of course. I was sent by my matron to buy these travel cases.”

I added a mental suggestion that it was not uncommon for the wealthy to send workers on missions to buy luggage while they sat in the expensive restaurants and ate off-world foods that cost small fortunes.

The clerk instantly understood and agreed with my assessment of the wealthy and her resentment of them coincided with the feelings I placed in her mind. It didn’t take much.

I walked from the luggage shop to a clothing store with the four cases following me at a discrete distance. I parked the luggage near the front counter and selected an outfit almost at random. I moved to the changing room and put on a shapeless dress suitable for many species. It fit well enough and I paid for it without raising suspicion and used a gentle nudge on the clerk to dismiss the memory of me wearing a tattered robe.

That was the key to being an unknown empath, meaning one who is alive. Nudge a memory in the direction you want a person to go. Not much. Only enough to sway a choice, often using the person’s own beliefs to secure the deal. The clerk in the luggage store hadn’t liked serving the wealthy and bowing to their every demand no matter how silly, so the suggestion that I had been ordered to do a rich woman’s shopping was easy to convey.

Once I wore the new dress, I left the shop, waited a few moments, and then reentered the same store with the same clerk. I approached her as if I was a stranger. My tone matched the callous manner the wealthy used when speaking to those of lesser means. My new expensive dress reinforced my words, “I am going to purchase traveling clothing for myself and friends. May I get you to record the charges and neatly place the things in my travel cases while I select more?”

“Why, certainly.”

She probably worked on commission and I’d just hinted at a nice payroll for her if she pleased me. Her mind was on that, and not on the idea that my face was familiar with her and she’d seen me only moments earlier. I haughtily strolled the aisles and gathered what I wanted in my arms, never once looking at the prices. She noticed that right away.

I carried those to the counter, dumped them by the armload, and went for more as the clerk recorded the charges and neatly packed in the travel cases as I’d asked.

When they were filled to overflowing, I returned to the counter. “If my ship departs at six, what’s the earliest I can board on this planet?”

“Four, two hours of advance boarding is normal.”

The timer on the wall now said three. “Thank you. Is there room in the suitcases for a few more things?”

“We can make room,” the clerk said with a crooked smile.

I’d spent more credits in the last hour than the clerk earned in a few years. I went for more. Captain Stone had told me to get overalls and traveling clothes. Oh, well. Then I strolled back to the doorway of the storeroom as the timer changed to four. It was time. The cases obediently followed me. Inside, the others anxiously waited for me.

Captain Stone had used the time to remove the green tint from her skin. She had also removed the green wig and combed out her long dark hair. It was like meeting a new person. I had to readjust my thinking and truthfully, I preferred her green.

I was small framed like her, but my hair was blonde and my skin fair. I was also half her age. Comparing myself to other human women seemed natural. She was almost beautiful. I was pretty. Not the same but for the first time, I wondered if the expensive clothing would make others see me differently.

I said, “Clothing for all is in the suitcases. No overalls, so I took