Serendipity (Book 1 of the Dana Halliday series)

MOTHER OF INVENTION. LIVE ANIMAL HOLDING. AGGRESSIVE PRETZELS.

"Shh," Flynt said, unfazed.  His eyes were open—they were a softer blue than in reality—but he looked preoccupied. "You'll ruin the effect.  Can you climb?"

    "Yeah...I think so."  I was too fascinated with the illusion to worry much about the ladder; I hoped that was what he'd been going for.  I had somehow put myself in the right frame of mind, as he'd put it, to let him twist my perceptions.  How Zen of me.  The mother of invention and all that jazz.  "You...should...go first.  I can't...can't...catch..."

    "Right.  I'll try to catch her if she slips.  Stay right behind me, though, yeah?"

    "Surrrre..."  I couldn't seem to speak at a normal rate either.  The illusion wasn't as solid as the first time—I seemed to see mirage-like ripples in the air over his head, I supposed from the movement of his antennae—but I didn't question it, even when I touched his face with my fingertips.

    Flynt reached up and took my wrist.  His lips curved in a distracted grin.  "Don't.  I can't affect your sense of touch."

    "Okay.  Let's...um, let's go?"

     Flynt tilted his head for a moment, amused. He really did make a nice-looking Earther. Then he turned and started up the ladder.

    I'm not exactly sure when I developed my fear of heights.  I remember climbing trees and ladders up until about junior high, so it was after that.  I never even had an especially bad fall or anything.  As it is, I can deal with it, if I feel secure—leaning on a sturdy railing to look over a cliff, for instance—but I don't think I would have been able to climb that ladder without Flynt's help.

    It seemed like about ten miles up; we climbed for at least twenty minutes.  This was confirmed by my compadres later.  I was too enthralled by having seen Flynt as I remembered first meeting him on Earth to keep track of time.  At the moment, it was too dark to see much more than his feet, which probably helped the illusion as well.  I wasn't even concerned about the worn, slippery condition of the rungs under my hands and shoes.  It was amazing.

    At last, Flynt was helping me onto another walkway.  We were close to a door.  

"All right?" he asked me, keeping a firm grip on my elbow.

    Flynt looked like himself again.  My heart rate sped up to its previous brisk pace, and I felt a little weak with relief and sudden clarity. 

    "Been better," I said shakily, "been worse.  Is this where we need to be?"

    Novernyi gave me a disgusted look, which I probably deserved.  She'd climbed the damn ladder with a broken arm, after all.  "Almost." She poked at the door.

    The door slid open, and a Sturv gave us a suspicious eye.  This one was bald and gray-skinned, so much like a close-encounter-style alien that I wondered if Flynt was still bending my perceptions.  

"Vilshoth?" it demanded.

    My Earwig translated this as "what?" and the Sturv followed up with, "Live Animal Holding is currently closed to the public."

    From behind it came a series of surreally familiar squawks, some unidentifiable grunts and snorts, and the sound of Sturv applause.  The doorkeeper hit a button, but Flynt shot out his hand and grabbed the Sturv by the collar of its nondescript black jacket.  The door started to close on his arm and then thoughtfully popped open again.   

At the same time, Flynt bared his teeth and snarled in Standard, "Don't test me, Sturv.  I've had enough of you for one day."

    It seemed the Sturv had a few brain cells rolling around in its enormous cranium, for it stepped back.  Unintelligible mutters came from its still lips, however, and Flynt remained in the doorway while Novernyi and I slipped by.  After a few moments he caught up, glancing over his shoulder to make sure the doorkeeper wasn't following.  It wasn't.