By Pamela Love
Zai’s blood pressure skyrocketed at the sight of the woman sauntering into the restaurant, her golden hair wound in a coronet, a faint sneer marring her otherwise perfect face. One look was all he needed to recognize Viola Gill, the galaxy’s most notorious slave trafficker.
He was bussing tables at the Perfect Plate after hearing rumors that local intoxicant smugglers sometimes stopped by. He’d never expected someone like Gill. It took all of Zai’s self-control not to dump a load of dirty dishes in her lap.
Retreating to the kitchen, he set his bin by the sink and headed for the back door, reaching for the commlink under his shirt cuff. Security had to know about this. Then Zai hesitated. Gill was the head of a vast, monstrous ring. If he opened a quick bloodvoice link to her first, he could use the data he found through that mental doorway to track down her associates—or victims. I can always send Security an anonymous tip later. This time, I don’t care about the reward.
He needed to keep her within view, but Gill or her guards might become suspicious if he paid too much attention to her. Luckily, he didn’t need to make eye contact.
Grabbing an empty bin—betting that during the lunch rush nobody would notice he’d “forgotten” to unload the previous one—Zai re-entered the dining room and began clearing a recently vacated table. He took a deep breath, bracing himself to cross into the mind of a villain who witnessed and even relished her victims’ suffering. Their pain, for a short time, would become his. He stared at the back of Gill’s head, her blonde crown of hair fastened at the base with a black and white hair clip.
As the bloodvoice took effect, a scent tsunami flooded his brain, overpowering the normal sights or sounds. Smells, most of which he couldn’t name, were far more powerful. Most of all, the metallic stink of a Security stunner field. He’d undergone bad bloodvoice links before, but nothing so traumatic.
Dizzy, he sagged against the table. Tears streamed down his face.
A server shook his shoulder. “Hey! You all right?”
Opening his eyes, Zai took a deep breath. “Hangover. Sorry.” He cut the link, but the smells still ebbed and flowed through his skull.
The server handed him a pain tablet. “Take this.”
Zai dry swallowed it. “Thanks.” He wanted to curl up in a ball and sob. What’s wrong with me? Bloodvoicing was a crucial part of his success as a warrant chaser. Had he damaged it by linking to so many psychopaths and sadists over the years? Maybe Gill sent me over the edge.
His target was daintily eating fruit salad. Whatever was going through her brain, she showed no outward evidence of trauma, and certainly wasn’t under a stunner field—if she were, she’d be motionless, hardly breathing.
Maybe I’m smelling it because she uses it so often? Zai retched.
A manager trotted toward him. “Go home, now. See a doctor before you return.”
Zai didn’t have to be told twice. Yanking off his apron, he dashed out the side exit, where he texted Security.
A strike force arrived minutes later, surging through every entrance. Diners shrieked and chairs and tables were overturned as Gill’s guards struggled to protect their boss. Seized by two Security officers, the trafficker thrashed, her braid swinging wildly as she flung herself around. Nevertheless, she could not escape.
Soon Gill and her gang were driven away in a Security vehicle. Zai heaved a sigh of relief.
He sat on a nearby bench and began nibbling a roll he’d filched from the breakfast buffet. A motion by his feet caught his eye, and he was surprised to spot a fist-sized, unfamiliar black and white quadruped munching on a groundberry. Where have I seen that before?
Without thinking, he started a bloodvoice link and was once more overwhelmed with a surge of smells. The stunner stench wasn’t there though, which made it easier for him to break off contact.
Zai squeezed his eyes shut as he realized what had happened. I meant to bloodvoice Gill, but since I was staring at this creature in her hair, that’s what I formed a link with. This little beast must depend on smell far more than the other senses.
On a hunch, he contacted Security again. “Where was Gill’s last stop before our city?”
***
“Gill was on Earth before traveling to your world, Zai.” Security Chief Artz had stopped by his home, along with a zoologist from Earth. “She decided to branch out into trafficking non-sentients.”
“They were smuggling stolen Terran species genetically engineered to be tiny, collectively called minifauna,” said Dr. Zhang. She stroked the panda with a fingertip. “We think Gill was going to sell them as pets, but she’d ordered this one put on extended stun and used it as a hairclip, so it’s possible she planned to make some jewelry, too. Fortunately, this panda you rescued at the restaurant has fully recovered. He apparently scrambled off Gill during her arrest. In gratitude for your help with this case, Earth wants to give you the honor of naming him.”
Zai smiled at the adorable creature. Once more he formed a link, but this time, though it was still filled with smells, they were peaceful, like a scented candle. “Call him Aroma.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Hope you enjoy my latest minifauna story!
Elton John would love minifauna.
“Hold my hair back, tiny pandaaaaaa”
I genuinely laughed at loud at this pun!
So adorable! Loved working on this story with you! 🥰
Thanks so much! The editing process (though stressful) is fun!
A very interesting and clever twist on Zai and his bloodvoicing. Really nice!
I appreciate the compliment!
Dean Martin, too.
“When your bloodvoice connection
causes stomach ejection
That’s Aromaaaa”
Funny stuff!
Dean Martin is a funny guy
I enjoyed the mystery of what the bloodvoice meant. And the connection back to your mini-fauna series was unexpected (nice twist).
I love how he accidentally bloodvoiced with the creature. :) “a scent tsunami” provided amazing imagery.