I find someone playing shell games outside the shuttle-port and win enough for a cheap ticket and lunch. Buying a ticket with my savings would have brought me to Setsi with almost nothing, but knowing that doesn’t stop the guilt from running down my neck and pooling in my chest.

I had thought about trying to find work that would take me to Setsi, but anything coming from Wrenis not using official channels is likely contraband. And it’s probably better not to chance another encounter with crisis services. In any case, smuggling something through Yebran is not a risk I’m willing to take.

I eat a stale sandwich and see I have a message from Marinek. I don’t read it. Instead, my gaze drifts around my surroundings, watching for anything suspicious or out of place.

I notice how tense I am as I board the shuttle. I find my seat towards the back by a window and try to stretch a bit.

After a few minutes, someone drops in the seat next to me. I give them a cursory glance before returning to my holocom. I’ve been scrolling through information about Cal Varmia and the research institution they work at.

After a few minutes, the person sitting next to me speaks up. “Hey, I don’t mean to bother you, but have we met before?”

I look up into brown eyes—umber at the edges lightening to ochre as iris approaches pupil—and that feeling that I’ve seen this face before rises again.

“I bumped into you outside a bar.”

“Oh, right! You had a flower behind your ear.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

They offer a hand. “I’m Sefon and I use he/him.”

I take it. “Jinsang. And I use he/they.”[1] And a cold nervousness runs down my spine. Has he been following me?

He smiles and his voice is warm when he says, “Once is coincidence but twice must be fate.”

My thoughts crash against each other as I try to come up with my next move. He wouldn’t try something while we’re on the shuttle. Maybe I can play along. Maybe I can convince him I’m not worth the trouble of catching.

Realizing I’ve let the quiet lapse a little too long, I say, “That a Wanderers’[2] saying.”

“Yes. Are you a Wanderer?”

“No, but I have a friend who is.” I remember Marinek’s sharp gaze and decide not to let my thoughts dwell. “Your accent—are you from Cona?”

He switches easily into Commerce’s Tongue,[3] “Yes, and judging from your accent, you are too?”

It takes me a second to clear the cobwebs from the long unpracticed skill before I reply, “Yes. My family is from the Region of Autumnal Gold, but I was raised in the Disputed Isles.”[4]

He switches back to Interdimensional Common Tongue. “If this is easier for you—”

“No, no,” I say, continuing in that of Commerce, “It’s good practice for one so long from home.”

He nods. “I have also been missing the opportunity to speak in a tongue from my youth.[5] I do not know Gold’s Tongue or any of the Isle's Tongues unfortunately. I don’t suppose you know Lily’s Tongue?”

“No, sorry.”

“More than alright.” His smile is wide and flashes blindingly bright. “It’s nice to speak with someone from close to home.”

My smile is quieter and I hope less weary than I feel. “Yes.”

“Are you headed for Setsi?”

I pause, caution itching like hives along my arms. But if he was here for me, he’d just follow me regardless. “Yes,” I say, “you are too?”

He hums in the affirmative. “Got something to drop off.”

“You’re a courier?”

“Something like that.”

A smuggler then, or he’s lying and it’s something worse. “I’m just visiting as a tourist. It’ll be my first time in Setsi.” It’s an easy lie and one he’s unlikely to discover.

An attendant asks for our attention and begins explaining safety protocol. I pretend to listen, but my eyes keep sliding towards Sefon. Unhappily, I accept that he intrigues me and that talking to him feels easy.