The Displacement - ch. 8

“So you've been victimized by Pillar, too?”

When Nes had finished his long story of Earth, Pillar, the Flume, and Skaylia, Skye’s only remark had been those seven words. They’d been the first she had said in quite a bit -- while he’d recounted his day from the back of the car, the yellow-haired girl hadn’t so much as nodded as she drove, and now he was beginning to wonder if she’d even been listening the whole time. He didn’t know why she couldn't have been this focused on driving when they were dodging trees in the forest, but as he’d already learned that day, questioning Skye only ever made things worse.

“Well... yeah,” he finally replied. “I guess I have.”

“If it matters,” she said, “there’s not much shame in it. Everybody here’s been left off worse by something he's done.” Her voice trailed off from its usual snarky tone, as if the words had caused her to ruminate on something.

“So you say you've been… victimized, too?” Nes decided to ask. “How?”

“Because Pillar has a personal squadron of finely honed killers out for my family’s blood,” she said, surprisingly calmly. “Or at least that's the way he would describe it. Most of them are just a bunch of drunken glaster-glumps that didn't get past fifth grade. But you probably know that already. You met them today, after all.”

With this, Skye began to ramble, and Nes decided it would be best if he just stopped listening; after all, in his mind, half of what she said was tantamount to nonsense. He returned to looking out the side window, allowing himself to be hypnotized by the flat, green horizon speeding by.

Soon, however, he began to make out something strange -- a blurry, irregular mass looming over the horizon like a giant, apocalyptic cloud, coming barely closer as they drove on and on. At first he was alarmed, and he wanted desperately to ask Skye what it was. But she was still lost in her monologue, the subject of which had shifted by then to guns -- something Nes knew roughly as much about as Martian geography -- and he knew that if the thing in the distance posed any threat, it was nothing compared to the danger he would be in if he interrupted her. All he could do was sit and stare, not sure whether to be entranced or horrified by its existence.

It wasn’t till several minutes, when the huge, looming entity had risen up further over the horizon, that Nes came to realize just what it was. It was the skyline of some enormous city, far more monstrous than any he’d ever seen. Its massive skyscrapers were bunched so closely together that at first glance, they looked like one single hulking presence; a man-made mountain range. As they drove closer in, however, Nes could soon make out each individual one, and he knew by then that they were not anything like the blocky, rectangular buildings of Stark -- or anywhere else on Earth, for that matter. Many had peculiar wavy shapes, like gigantic sails flapping in a sea breeze. Some were strikingly reflective, creating a glare visible even from the distance; a good few of the others had bright pastel hues like candy. A handful even looked as if they were made entirely out of glass.

By then, Nes could hold back the question no longer. “What's that big city?” he asked as he pointed out through the window, extending his arm so that Skye would see. It seemed an unfittingly simple thing to ask, he then thought. The monstrosity in the distance was too immeasurably colossal to fit into such a minor description. Skye seemed to pay no mind, though, for her response was no less simple.

“Lovely Lady Honourville.”

“On... err... ville?” Nes said, trying to repeat after her.

“You bet your glaster,” she replied, grinning emphatically. “City of steadfast light. Nothin’ like it in the whole wide world.”

“You know this place, then?”

The girl chuckled heartily. “Do I know it!” She took her right hand off the steering wheel, slapped it audibly over her heart, and burst out into yet another impromptu song.

“Lovely Lady Honourville! City of steadfast light! Stand above us tall, and to us all give your hope through the dark of the night!” Her voice was no better than it had been earlier, but Nes’s cringing didn’t seem to bother her in the slightest. She belted out the anthem from start to finish, then went on to add an obviously made-up third verse that mentioned flying frogs and bear-squirrel cavalry. Once again, Nes stopped paying attention.

“Well,” he said once the blessing of silence had finally returned. “Is this... Honourville place where we're going?”

“I wish,” Skye answered, “but not today. I'm not exactly welcome there, being a Pink harvester and all. If this van got pulled over and some copper stuck his head in here, there’d be hell to pay -- and not just for me, alien boy.” A short silence fell. Nes found himself letting go of the tuft of pink grass in his hand.

“How long has it been since you were there last?” he asked.

“Just a month, really,” she answered. “It may not be best to go there that often, but it’s not like that means I can’t ever go. After all, that’s where my business happens.”

“Business?” he asked, flashing a look of uncertainty.

“Harvester business,” she replied brusquely. “Just don’t ask about it... not now, anyway. I just met you, after all. I still don’t know how long we’re gonna be stuck together. So don’t take it personal, but if you’re just gonna head back off to that Earth of yours, I’d rather not have all my secrets going with you. Besides, if you do end up sticking around, you’ll probably get to see it firsthand.” At this, she gave a smirk -- the true and undeniable sign that nothing good was in store for him.

“I’ll... look forward to it, then,” he said.

“That’s the spirit, alien boy. We may get along after all.”

As they drove onward through the endless, flat plains, Honourville loomed ever closer, and with it came signs of civilization. The first to come up were what looked to be roads -- shining metallic strips, evidently all part of some sort of highway that stretched across the grassland to nowhere Nes could see. There didn’t appear to be many people commuting, either; in the distance, he saw the blurred shapes of a few speeding cars, but there hardly seemed to be any sort of traffic. It seemed almost contradictory that so few people were coming and going from a city as huge as Honourville, but that hardly concerned him -- it was the cars that had his attention. By then they had gotten close enough to the roads for Nes to see that they were teardrop-shaped things, more reminiscent of miniature spaceships than any normal car he’d ever seen. In place of tires, each alien vehicle had a pair of glowing blue strips reaching across its underside. And, most fascinatingly of all, they seemed to be floating a foot off of the ground.

“No way,” Nes said to himself. “Those cars... They’re flying!”

“Not exactly,” Skye corrected, having heard his musings. “Those babies are just your ordinary hover-buggies. Flying cars were an experiment gone wrong a few decades ago. Turns out if you let people buy their own flying machines, things get nuts real fast.”

Nes turned his head for a glance through the window on his side of the van. He noticed immediately that one of the roads had nearly come upon them, and Skye had begun to steer the van off course, edging closer and closer to the metallic strip. At the last second, she made a daunting swerve, and the vehicle jumped up onto the road with a jolt that sent him reeling.

“You’ll probably notice most people here prefer to stick as close to the ground as possible,” she said, quite untimely -- for after that sickening bump, Nes found himself wishing her van could fly. “And then there’re some who like it best if you don't even come off the ground at all. That's why I go the old fashioned way. Wheels worked for cave-Skaylians, and they work just fine for me.”

There was another short silence. Skye glanced at her rearview and noticed that Nes was clutching his stomach.

“Hey,” she said. “You don’t look so hot, alien boy. Are you feeling okay?”

“Not exactly,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry, I... I just get carsick really easily.”

“Carsick?” Skye chuckled. “Maybe it really is best if you don’t stick with me much longer. What’re you, also scared of nip-voles?” Nes didn’t respond. An awful, sickening feeling had begun to rise up through his chest, the same one he’d begun to feel in the pod. This, he knew, could mean only one thing.

“Oh, man,” said Skye, her voice erratic. “You really are sick, aren’t you?” Nes nodded frantically. “Well, if you’ve gotta do what you’ve gotta do, then... be my guest. Plenty of bags to choose from back there.”

Hurriedly, he took the advice and reached out for the first bag he saw -- which, much to Skye’s dismay, was her messenger bag. He threw open the flap, and then, before the girl could say a word in protest, her latest harvest of pink grass was pink no more.

“Oh,” murmured Nes, swaying woozily. “I... I didn’t mean... I’m sorry.”

But by then, he was unable to utter another word; nor was he able keep his balance. With an audible groan, he fell flat on his stomach, and the world swirled around him as his inner ears spun like a whirling dervish.

“Turt,” he heard Skye mutter. “That was the best harvest of the day.”

That, as it turned out, was the last thing he would hear for a while. As he lay on the floor, he felt his vision fading away, and soon he had drifted off into a troubled yet welcome unconsciousness.



“My hammer cracks planets in two! My nailgun explodes the stars! My welding torch turns the galaxy into a sea of blazing DEATH!”

Nes was awoken by a thumping bass and a raging, screaming voice, both of which seemed louder than anything he’d ever known. Worse still, as he lay there, still half asleep, he felt like he’d slept on a rock. How had his bed gotten so hard? Every muscle in his body was sore -- his back, his arms, his legs. And his stomach; oh, Lord, his stomach hurt. Had he accidentally swallowed gasoline? He wasn’t sure, but if he knew one thing, it was that this horrible dream of aliens and lasers and mad scientists and alternate dimensions was finally over -- and best of all, it was Saturday.

There was still, however, the annoying presence of the music. It had just reached its chorus, and had somehow managed to get even louder.

“POWER... DRILL... DEATH... STAB!”

“Dad!” he shouted, writhing as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Dad! I told you not to play your stupid records so loud in the-”

His voice dropped out. Whoever was singing sounded eerily familiar -- too familiar.

“No,” he said to himself. “Please, God, no...” He thrust open his eyes, and his heart stopped.

“Knew this would get you up, alien boy,” said Skye, finally turning the radio down. She smiled widely as she stared down from the driver’s seat. “We’re almost to Nantz. I figured you’d want to see.”

“Nan... what?” spat Nes, for the most part still frozen in utter disbelief.

“We’re in Subdistrict 5,” explained the girl, gesturing out through the window. “In the Honourvillian outskirts. I grew up here in Nantz Village.” Nes got up for a look out the window. They were driving down a tree-lined boulevard, either side of which was lined by small, boxy buildings; quaint little shops and modern, clean-looking apartment buildings. To a certain extent, it reminded him of home -- at least, a far cry from those massive, gleaming sails he’d seen in the distance. One thing, however, was off. Every inch of this town was bursting at the seams with color! Every hue in the spectrum was present somewhere, no matter where he looked. There must have been more color in the tiny Skaylian town than all of Earth combined!

Far stranger than the city, however, were the people he saw there -- for they were just as vibrant as their surroundings. Not one man or woman in Nantz was not dressed in gaudy rainbow colors. Even slick businessmen in suits were wearing emerald-green jackets and striped blue ties. It wasn’t simply the clothes that were so strange, however; as he soon realized, nearly everyone had technicolor hair as well, in shades that ranged from sky blue to hot pink to neon green to fire engine red. Everywhere he looked, a vibrant sea... on people’s heads!

To make the understatement of the century, Nes was dismayed.



NOTE FOR RESEARCHERS:

The people of Skaylia do not, unlike what you may be thinking at this point, dye their hair; or, at least, not the vast majority of them. The Skaylians have their strangely colored hair for a very peculiar but nonetheless explainable reason.

In the days of prehistory, when the cave-Skaylian faced vicious guangras and ever-hungry bear squirrels in a daily struggle to survive in the wild, most of these prehistoric Skaylians had hair that you, a human being, would most likely call normal. Hair, with its earthy hues, made for great camouflage in the wild, so most people had it, and they were quite proud of it. Much later, though, once a wide-scale happening known as civilization had erupted throughout their planet, hair was quickly and efficiently rendered useless, and rather intrusive as well. With the modern age came endless grievances against the fuzzy, untamable, ever-growing mass atop everyone’s head. But somehow, in the face of all this trouble with cutting and styling and gelling and shaving, which I myself would likely have eliminated, hair remained through the years. And then, one day, something completely unprecedented came to pass. An ordinary, working-class man, Jakwell Bloom, and his wife, Seeba, had a child with very odd hair.

“What's your daughter like?” Bloom's officemates often asked him following his daughter's birth.

“She’s very odd,” Bloom would explain. “She’s got red hair.”

“Red hair's completely normal,” most of them would say in reply, seeming rather confused, and Bloom would then retort, “No, not normal red. It's bright red! Can't you see? Not ginger! RED!”

It was true -- the Bloom child had bright red hair. And no one had a clue of what was afoot. There had been no situation like this ever before, after all; she had simply been born with completely natural hair the color of geraniums, and that was all anyone knew. The case, however, did not prove to be unique. Several months later, an officemate of Bloom's had a son with blue hair.

As the result of another very unlikely coincidence -- for indeed, the multiverse favors them -- Bloom’s daughter and the blue-haired boy would end up meeting, falling in love, getting married, and having three funny-haired children -- one with red hair, one with blue, and one with purple. And it was not long thereafter that children all over the planet began to be born with their hair in unnaturally saturated rainbow shades. The truth, as the Skaylians soon found out, was a simple one: the Skaylian race was evolving. With brown and beige no longer in such great demand, the color system had simply become a little more elaborate. And these new developments, as most concluded, were there to stay.

Those concluders, however, would never have predicted the current situation. In modern Skaylia, years and years after Jakwell Bloom and his great-great-grandchildren all bit the dust, the rainbow-haired minority has all but taken over. The colors you would call normal are all but nonexistent, and for a simple reason -- by current-day standards, neon colors are simply more fashionable.



P.S.
Fashion, like love, is one of those things that I will simply never understand.



It was at that moment, upon finally taking sight of the Skaylian race in their full, multicolored glory, that Nes realized the true nature of his situation, and his insides almost cartwheeled again. Up until then, he hadn’t thought of his surroundings as too strikingly abnormal, save for the blue sun and the pink grass -- but those were little things. These people, however, were not such a little thing, and they were all but sufficient to change his mind. This planet was a truly alien place. And he was stranded there.

His stomach plummeted. What had he been thinking? He wasn’t safe here! The pod -- perhaps his only hope of contacting Earth -- was now miles behind him, lost in a forest where he’d never be able to find it again. And now here he was, stuck with an alien girl who had obviously not made it through the third grade. Skye was an outlaw. A thug! There was no way that she, of all people, would have any means of assisting him!

Oh, crucified Christ, he thought to himself. I’m marooned. He was nearly certain of it -- there would be no going back to Earth. He would never see his family again; not once more would he ever hear Celine's impish laugh, or help Audrey with her homework, or play with Rocket. Nor would he ever see Roseanne again -- the kiss they had shared would be the last one ever. He was even beginning to think he’d miss seeing Spencer when he came home from college. At least Spencer’s hair was a perfectly normal black…

He was brought back into reality by a sudden, sharp snap. He jerked his head around and saw that Skye was snapping her fingers.

“What?” he asked, shaking his head to expel his panicked reverie. The girl shot him a cold glare.

“I’m the one who should be asking what,” said Skye. “You looked like you were in a trance. Anything wrong?”

“Oh,” he said. “I’m sorry. I was... just kind of freaked out, I guess. By the people, I mean. They're just so... colorful.”

“So this isn’t what you’re used to, then... is it?” Nes shook his head.

“Everyone’s like this, aren’t they?” he asked, though he felt he knew the answer already. Sure enough, Skye’s response was a brusque “M-hm.”

“Just about,” she went on. “But this is the least of it, honestly. If you think village fashion’s crazy, you should see the Honourvillians.” Nes was silent. He had his eyes fixed on a woman who looked like a walking Christmas tree. Village fashion, he thought. The least of it. Perhaps, he thought, it would be best if he didn’t see the Honourvillians anytime soon.

“Their hair,” he remarked. “Do they dye it that way?”

“Not unless they're unhappy with the color they were born with.”

“So that means...”

“Nobody’s work but Mother Nature,” she confirmed. To Nes, this development was both the most horrifying and the most fascinating yet. He couldn’t help but think of the Japanese cartoons that Audrey always watched. If only she were here to see this...

No, Nes thought, realizing at once that he’d gotten to thinking about home again. That would do no good for him. If he wanted to see the people he loved ever again, he would need to keep his mind straight -- no more getting down on himself, and most certainly no more panicking. His first step, he knew, would be to separate himself from the short-fused, stubborn, moody imbecile that was currently acting as his chauffeur. Getting home would require the assistance of someone more knowledgeable about the Flumes -- or however it was that he’d really gotten to this ghastly place. This planet had laser guns and hovering cars, after all. It surely couldn’t be too taxing to find someone, anyone, who knew his way around technology. For now, though, all he could do was wait, watching in silence as the alien landscape flew by through the window of Skye Electra’s van.

It got late fast on Skaylia. Another solid hour passed by on the road, and soon the sun had begun to sink toward the horizon. He had to admit, despite his distress, that the sunset on Skaylia was a sight to behold; nothing at all like the dim orange glow that he’d watched so many times in his backyard. The big blue sun produced a light show of green, purple, and yellow as it made its way downward. But once the colors had faded, darkness fell quickly. With Honourville at their back, there wasn’t a single visible light on the empty, black horizon, and for some reason, to Nes, this experience seemed almost more surreal than the sunset. This, he thought, must have been how astronauts felt -- looking silently through a window as he floated through the silent void, moving steadily into a black sea of stars.

The darkness, however, didn’t prove to linger. A long row of bluish lights came to life on both sides of the highway, and its daytime shine was allowed to return. But the gleam that Nes had seen before could compare in no way to this nighttime display -- now the road looked like the glowing path to heaven, stretching outward into infinity.

Transfixed as he was by this alien nighttime, he only felt the need to speak again when a simple question began to bother him. “How much further is this place?”

“Can't be much further from here,” Skye replied. “Maybe twenty skips. Once we get off the road, the way’s not much longer.”

“Off the road?” he asked, already squeamish from the thought of it. He’d gotten used to the nice, smooth flatness of the highway, after all; another round of bumpy off-roading wasn’t something he was looking forward to. “You mean... we’re going to...”

“I’m afraid so,” Skye replied, not sounding so excited herself -- the memory of Nes’s last sickness snafu was still strong with her. “It’s what we have to do. Where we’re going isn’t exactly on the map. If one thing’s for sure, there’re no roads to it.”

With this, he realized something that he’d been blissfully ignoring for a long time by then -- he didn’t know where he was being taken any more than he knew what a skip was.

“Just where are we going, anyway?” he asked, praying that this was a question that Skye was at liberty to answer.

She waited quite a bit before responding. “That’s not so easily explained, alien boy. It’s not really a question of where. No one knows where it is -- not outside my little family, that is. Not even Pillar does. And most of the Honnies don’t even think it exists. So it’s definitely not where, like on a map. My home is like its own little world.”

As she talked, she took an arm off the steering wheel and reached down under her seat, rummaging there for a moment before finally pulling out what looked to be an old, worn-out newspaper. Nes had barely gotten a look at it before Skye threw it over her shoulder and he found it suddenly flying toward his face. At the last second, he threw up his arms and caught it like a football.

“You’re lucky I still have this here,” said Skye, flicking on a light for Nes. “This can explain it all better than I can... and I definitely won’t have to worry about letting out things I can’t let you know. Read up.” He unfolded the paper, first noticing a large picture -- a blurry, awkward shot of a large, darkened building. He read the headline: LUXACORP IN TATTERS: GLACEAU’S TOP-SECRET VALE FACILITY SHUT DOWN.

Nes didn’t know what to make of a title like that. The strange words were clearly alien; never on Earth had he seen words like Glaceau or Luxacorp anywhere. He turned to Skye with a look of confusion.

“Glay... show?” he said, trying his best to sound out the strange name.

“Glass-so,” corrected Skye. “It’s Flennish. Most Skaylians don’t even pronounce it right on the first try.”

“What does it mean?” he asked.

“It’s a family name. One of the most well-known here on Skaylia. Luxa Glaceau was the head of Luxacorp... the greatest tech corporation this star system’s ever known.” The girl paused, then tacked on a final sentence -- as if it had been an afterthought. “She also happens to be my mom.”

“You said your last name was Electra,” Nes pointed out. “Didn’t you?”

“True,” she said. “You got me there. Guess I should’ve elaborated. She’s not my real mom. She’s just always taken care of me... about as long as I can remember, that is.”

“Well... what about your real parents, then?”

For the longest time, Skye didn’t respond. By the time she let out her answer, Nes was hardly even paying attention for it.

“They’re dead.”

The two words almost knocked him off his feet. They’d come out of nowhere, and something bothered him about the way she had spoken them -- brusquely, almost gruffly; hardly with any emotion. Something about that stirred him in the most uncomfortable way.

“I’m so sorry,” he found himself saying. “You must miss them.”

Skye only chuckled. “Miss them?” she said. “I barely knew my parents at all. My dad was in the military, and my mom never had time to do anything but work. The Glaceaus are more family to me than those two ever were. And the Vale... well, that’s the closest thing to a permanent home that I’ve ever had.”

“This... Vale,” he said, looking up from the paper. For the last minute, as Skye talked, he’d been trying to skim it, but the writing was so smudged and worn that he soon found it to be a futile task. “Can you tell me more about it?”
“The Vale,” she said. “It was Luxacorp’s research facility. All the major research and development went down there. It was top-secret, too. If anyone knew where it was, they’d go in and steal secrets, so they kept it hidden, even from the government. No one went in, and no one came out.” She paused for a moment -- as if reminiscing. “That was all a long time ago, though,” she continued. “Way back... further than I can remember. I was just a little girl when they shut it down.”

“What happened?” Nes inquired. “To... Luxacorp?”

Skye was dead silent for what seemed a short eternity. “That’s a long story,” she finally said. “You probably wouldn’t understand it. And... I’d rather not tell it, anyway. We all try to forget it.”

“Oh,” murmured Nes. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Skye replied. “The only thing you need to know is that the reason my family’s broken, starving, and hiding from the world... is Pillar.” In the rearview mirror, Nes saw her grit her teeth. “But I think I don’t need to go off on him any longer. You already know all there is to know about him.”

“So you live there now?” asked Nes. “In the Vale?”

“Pretty much,” said Skye. “It’s the only place where no one can find us. Not that I stay there much, of course... never said it was thrilling. So the ol’ Convoy Schooner and I do a lot of travel.” She reached out a hand and patted the dashboard like a loyal pet. “Nothing’s better than being on the road... except maybe a few of the destinations. With a good Honouran engine, you can go anywhere, after all. Up in Morningtonia, they’ve got the best ocean cliffs to go diving off of. Or when you head down south, you’ll see wild camel-hounds, and they hate being ridden, but that only makes it more fun to try! And sometimes I’ll swim the channel to Flenna just to hide in the trees and watch the tourists. It’s illegal, but it’s one hell of a good laugh. You’d love it!” She paused for a moment before adding on one last sentence: “Hey, if you’re staying, you can come along sometime!”

“I... don’t think that would be best for me,” he stammered.

“Fine,” said Skye. “Be a boring old spoilsport if you want to. You know, you really remind me of my sister Mandy. She says I’m stupid and I’m probably going to get myself killed someday.”

“She might be right,” Nes found himself saying, and he regretted it immediately. But Skye didn’t seem to take any offense.

“Maybe she is. But when you live like I do, it’s the stupid who survive. If I know one thing, Mandy’s not the one going out to harvest pink grass. Then again, not being an actual Glaceau kind of helps my case, too.” At this, she began to laugh, as if at some joke that Nes didn’t get. He was distracted, therefore, when she steered the van back off the road with a rapid, jarring swerve, and the sudden motion nearly made him shout with fright. She began to drive into the surrounding woods, nonchalantly flicking on her bright lights -- as if it were all normal to her! But Nes knew by then not to question this girl. From what he’d learned so far, things of this sort probably were the norm for her.

“Speaking of Mandy,” she said, “we’re almost there, alien boy. She’s on night watch tonight. You’ll get to meet her.” Of that, Nes was admittedly happy -- if he was going to have to stay with Skye, all the better that there’d be someone who agreed with him on the subject of the blonde girl’s sanity.

The next words she spoke, however, sucked away all his comfort like a black hole.

“Of course, she’ll be out of her mind when she finds out I brought in an outsider.” Skye grinned, but Nes, once more, found no part of it funny.

“What do I do, then?” he asked.

“Just play it cool,” replied the girl. “Let me handle the talking. Once she understands we can trust you, she’ll warm up in no time.” For a while after, she said nothing, looking blankly ahead at the path ahead of her. “We can trust you,” she finally said, shooting him a quick glance. “Right?” Nes nodded.

“You have to promise me something, then,” she said.

“Go on,” said Nes. “I don’t mind... I think.” At this, Skye braked, and the van stopped completely, almost throwing him off balance again. The blonde girl turned around and faced him, and he wondered with grim unease what it was he’d just said he didn’t mind.

“You remember what I told you about the Vale,” she said. “Right? It’s another world. And nobody else on Skaylia knows about it. Far as I know, you’re the first person we’ve ever brought in from the outside. So on the condition we let you leave... you’re going to have to make sure you don’t let anyone know about how you got here and what you’ve seen. Can you promise me that?”

“Yes,” said Nes. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“You’re going to have to shake on that, you know.” Skye raised her right hand, then quickly spat in it before extending it out to him. He stared, not coincidentally feeling queasy again.

“I... I...” he stammered, flicking his eyes back and forth between her hand and her stern, unflinching eyes.

“I could kick you out right here,” she warned. “And they say there’s a monster in these woods.” Nes knew he had no choice. He stiffened, took a deep breath, and then slapped his palm down into the wet mess, grimacing at the squelching sound it made. Skye proceeded to squeeze with force enough to strangle a gorilla as she shook -- a sensation no less unpleasant. The five longest seconds of Nes’s life passed by before she drew her hand away, pulling four grotesque, transparent strands behind her.

“There you have it,” said Skye, smirking. “Done deal. You’re one of us... for now, at least. Welcome to the family.” She turned around to settle back into the driver’s seat, and as soon as Nes was certain she could no longer see, he wiped his hand vigorously on his pants.

“Looks like we’re almost to the Vale,” she remarked as she drove. “Might want to get rid of that shirt of yours sooner or later. Mandy’s not gonna like it one bit.”
Skye had a point, but the thought of going into that frigid air without any cover, for any amount of time, was not a pleasant one. An idea struck him, however, when he eyed the pile of old clothes beside him. Immediately he bent down and began to root through it.

“Hey,” Skye remarked, sounding a bit irritated. “What’re you doing there?”

“Getting rid of the shirt,” he said, and went back hurriedly to his work. Sure enough, in a moment’s time he had unearthed something that would suit -- a worn-out brown jacket. It was covered in holes and missing all but one button, but it would be enough to hide the emblem on his chest. Quickly, he donned it, slinging his arms through the sleeves and pulling it over his shirt.

“Hm,” Skye remarked. “You’re more clever than I gave you credit for, alien boy.”

“You don’t mind... do you?” Nes asked, tentative.

“No... as long as you don’t make a habit of rooting through my stuff. Some of my dirty underwear was in that pile, you know.”

Nes, unable to prevent the monstrous blush that followed, was momentarily thankful for the darkness that obstructed it. “Oh,” he mumbled.

Skye only snickered quietly to herself. “You and Mandy are gonna get along after all.”