2 Rosalynn

When the teen who threw the Frisbee rounds the corner and sees me, he apologizes. I hush him and motion for him to stay back. His eyes wander the area like mine, but it’s impossible to see anything.

Loss Prevention sends two men in black cargo pants and gray t-shirts to my location. I motion in the direction I saw the movement.

One of them bolts into the racks. Others in ghostcloaks further ahead of him send clothes scattering in invisible tornadoes.

I sigh with relief as they head away from us and into the main mall’s corridor.

“Sorry about the mess, Zatim,” I say.

“Ghostcloak?” he asks.

“Looks like it.” I’m just glad they weren’t after me. “Likely how they have been taking our tech. Anyway, you have to stop playing the games or you’re going to break something.” I hand the Frisbee back to him.

“People notice when we play. It’s a sales technique.”

“Uh huh, like the perfume counter can tolerate another accident. And don’t tell me you work here because you have the money to pay for that product.”

He grimaces. “I can barely pay rent.”

Brytanni’s heels clomp into the walkway and stop.

“What is going on here?” she asks.

“Sales technique, I hear,” I tell her.

“To what customer?” she asks. “I don’t see anything except lazy, careless employees who might be fired tomorrow if they don’t get back to work.”

It’s my last day. I don’t care to put up with her shit any longer. “Just don’t let it happen again. Aryssa is too short to block it, and tonight is my last shift.”

I walk past Brytanni, who glares daggers at me. But I just smile. “You have forgotten that you grew up as one of us. Your desperation led to concessions. Were they worth it?”

She might make more and have a prettier smile because she can afford celebrity whitening treatments. But I know she is not better than we are.

I don't wait for her response. Seeing a Retterwan male at the counter, Aryssa’s still with her customer, I return, smile, and ask the big dark green alien what I can help with.

Brytanni storms off. She was always pissy as a child when she didn’t get what she wanted. Nothing has changed.

My customer requests something as a gift for his mate. “She's pregnant and really sensitive to smells. So I wanted to give her something pleasant to help her get through public places.”

“Human?” I ask.

“Half human. Half Retterwan.”

I pull out one of the special menu cards Aryssa and I put together to make things easy when customers had specific requests just like this. He surveys the light fragrances but shakes his head. “I don't know what to pick.”

“The most popular are Citron, light and fruity orange and vanilla, sort of like a creamsicle. Clarity is the other which is a mint blend with cool waters. The latter is the top preference.”

He goes for the latter. “Got anything like this for mates? I would like her to not avoid me but I have been—” He shifts between his feet.

I keep my smile on my face despite the fact that I sense he’s embarrassed about his next words.

“I’m sweating with extra need for her because she carries our child. It makes me unusually scented, and I want to cover it so she’ll be able to be close to me.”

I nod with a shallow bow as we were trained to do when a customer requests additional product, then find the bottle of light cologne in the large circular display behind me. I set the box on the counter. “One spritz will do the trick.”

He sniffs the package and nods. “I think she’ll definitely like that better. But will it—mix well with my scent?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know?”

“Experience.” I spare him the details that I can smell him from where I stand. I can smell everything. Aryssa is a naturally sweet musk with a hint of orange. Zatim is a sweaty teen and carries more of a chyper scent. Brytanni is always drowning in Perihelion, a potent floral mix. After years of specializing in scents and greeting customers, I’ve picked up the patterns in the species.

Aryssa gives me a look and I know what she’s thinking—that I can smell a fart before it slips out I’m that good. It’s a unique skill for a human and one I often wish I didn’t have. But it helped me keep my job.

As I take his payment and watch him walk away, I wonder if there’s any chance I’ll find a male like him. The Alien Bride Race videos say the males are vetted, that they are well suited to provide for us if we agree to bonding with them. So I still have a choice. I just hope a good one, a tender protector like him, catches me.

That would be a dream.

“You ready to close?” Aryssa asks, switching off the lights in the cases.

I’m mildly sad that I’m not going to have any more days like this with her. She’s quiet, too, and I wonder if she’s worried about who she’ll be stuck with when I’m gone.

The world, Earth, isn’t what it once was. It isn’t safe to be alone in most places, especially for young women. A crazy old lady in our apartment complex said some humans have adaptations to help us survive. But those take generations to develop. At least they used to. Biowarfare is still a new concept. Nevertheless, my sense of scent is one of the adaptations, and it’s helped me more than once.

Aryssa takes the bin of small testers we’ve tried and empties it into my backpack.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“A going away present in case any of those guys are jerks. You can just turn them away with Burgundy Vine or Silky Slut.”

I chuckle as we lockup the card readers with the other staff in a special locker. Then we grab our things from the back room, and I close my cubby door for the last time.

“You okay?” Aryssa asks as we walk out into the fresh night air. It’s laced with a hint of ionized thruster fuel and sweat from the thirty others going home for the night.

“Going on to new things is always a bit of a stomach flipper.”

We bundle up in our threadbare coats as a breeze scrapes the heat from our bodies and take the dark sidewalk of the closest block to the center of town and head for her complex.

I don’t live there anymore, not after last night.

“I’m eager to meet him, whoever he is,” I admit. But I’m also scared he’ll grow bored of me, or I won’t be any good at what he needs me to do. I’m not sure I can take another rejection or being used again. You and I both know that it can get messy if the participants don’t get what they want the first time. They have to trade and convince us to switch or whatever.”

We climb the steps of the complex and walk down the hall to her room. She stops outside her door. “You have a good heart. You’re pretty. Definitely smart. And you’re here walking me back to my place when you have a shuttle to catch your future.”

“My people first.”

She shakes her head, opens the door, and hands me my duffel and backpack. “This is your chance to think about you and what you want for your life. Take it. Stars, you paid enough for it. And I don’t mean money. I mean the blood, sweat, and literal burning tears you endured to earn that money.”

“Yeah.”

Tiki, our resident tan cat curls around my ankle. I give him one last scratch and choke up. “I feel like I’m abandoning you and giving you an added burden of the cats.”

“The crazy lady, Carinth, is helping. We’ll be fine.”

I hand her something I’ve been holding onto all night. “They’ve started giving out Plus Ones, which are single, additional tickets to a resort on Catalyst Five.”

“A floating city near the moon? That’s at the lunar spaceport, right?” she asks. “Why?”

“Yes, so we can have security or backup buddies in case shit hits the orbiting rock. You saw the last episode where that woman got abducted by an invisible person. Well, now, they’re letting us have someone on hand for information and whatnot for the week. So you get to watch from Catalyst Five, if you want.”

“If?” Her eyes widen, and she bounces in excitement then slams into me, squeezing the breath from my lungs. “You’re kidding. You picked me?”

“Aryssa— You know me better than anyone. Katia doesn’t give two shits about her little sister now that she lives in her posh skyscraper with that pinch-faced dweeb, Nors. Mom’s gone. No idea who my father is. Don’t care. It’s not important. What is important is who is here for me now. And that’s you.”

She sadly looks down at the ticket. “Did you have to pay for this?”

“No.”

She slumps. “Oh, thank the stars. I was going to feel like shit if this came out of your paycheck, the same one I get. I mean, for real. If that was the case, you should've just asked me to be your Plus One. I would’ve totally drained my savings for you. Mostly because I’d want a chance to come visit you and whatever hunk you get.”

“You can still do that. I’ll be sure he agrees, or it’s no deal.”

She gives me another hug. “You have no idea how much this means to me. Be safe. Get a good one. I’ll be rooting for you.”

“Thanks.” As I turn to leave, she stops me.

“I see it in your eyes, Rosalynn. The doubt you’ll find one that wants to stick around.”

The grimy, cracked linoleum floor beneath my heels is a fitting reminder of where I’m from, where I’ve always been. “Can you blame me?”

“No. But I also think it’s part of life to move on. Let go of the past and your shitty family. Disown them. Own yourself. Own this feisty, scent detecting, kind person you are. And expect that male to respect you.”

I think back to the races we’ve watched together. “I just want to be wanted by someone. Needed. An essential individual, not a replaceable cookie cutter worker or neighbor. I want to mean something. Everyone in my life is important to me. I want to be the same to them.”

“You are to me. But if you figure out that recipe to the perfect life, you let me know.”

I laugh lightly. “Alright, I better head to the transport so I can change.

“Yeah. I guess I better pack. Looks like I have a flight to catch, too.” Aryssa waves and closes the door. It feels good to give her something. We’ve been a team for several years. Breaking it up feels like a crime.

I walk past my old apartment, now already housing another tenant. It’s a grungy place, and I’m sad Aryssa will have to return when the week is over. I’m not going to miss the building, just the cats and my friend.

My mind wanders to what pets the aliens have and if I’ll make new friends wherever I end up.

The bus down the street doesn’t wait for me. I don’t have the credits for it anyway. So I grab an aileron and hop onto the bumper. It’s a trick to do in heels, but the ride to the station where my shuttle sits is quick.

White clouds puff out of the engines. I’m going to make it with time to spare. So my first order of business is a very long hot shower to wash away the perfume from my permeated skin.

If I can’t get clean enough, I might not get picked simply because the males can’t smell me through everything else I’ve been exposed to. I want to be sure they pick me. If they can’t determine if we’re compatible by scent, they might avoid us by instinct. So I am going to take my time.

I can’t contain my excitement and run the rest of the way to the check-in counter. I am ready to start whatever new life is in store for me. It can only be better than the one I’m finally leaving behind.