“And what about your parents? Didn’t they do anything?”
“What is this, my life story? Shove off. I’m no’ telling you anything else.” He had no right to be asking all these nosy questions.
“So there really is nothing on Earth for you. If you want to return there, I need you to do something for me, first. And I chose you for a reason.”
He wanted me to do something? Everybody I ever met always wanted me to do something for them. But what reason did he have to fly through space and steal me away? “Because you think I’m an alien?”
“No. That was a prerequisite, but actually, I need you specifically, because you look more like a beta than an omega. You’re going to infiltrate the betas and help us dismantle their extremist organization, Beta Liberation.”
I shook my head. “I’m not helping you with anything.”
“Why not?”
I decided to spell it out for him.
“You act too much like a policeman. And I’m not a grass. I want to go home.”
He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “You have no choice about helping me. I’m going to send you into the betas organized crime operation, which funds their terrorism, and you’re going to find out everything we need to know.”
“Why?” Surely I could just sit still and never go anywhere or do anything he told me. What could he do about it?
“Because if you don’t, you will never go home.”
I sighed. More than running out of booze after the shops were shut, I hated people who forced me into impossible situations then made me do whatever they wanted. A lot of dealers were like that. It really pissed me off.
“I didn’t even like my life that much.” I wasn’t going to put up with him pushing me around.
“Then why do you keep saying you want to go back?” He had thatgotchatone that blokes of a certain age used when they wanted to make it clear they were cleverer than you.
“What is this, social worker hour? Piss off.” I just wanted to be somewhere where people weren’t making demands of me. A place where I decided what I did, and when, and why.
He shook his head. “We arrive on Epsilon in twenty-four hours. Between now and then, you are going to be worked on and fully prepared for your mission.”
“I’m not a broken car. I don’t need to be worked on.”
“You need hair, make-up, clothing, smell, and your speech needs to be fixed. You also need to learn your backstory. Everything you do when we land needs to convince betas that you’re one of them.”
I rolled my eyes. “You should have found an actor.”
“I don’t want an actor. I need the real thing.” He left. I pulled at the edge of the sheets on my bed. Someone else came in. She was an older lady, with gray hair, russet overalls and a big toolbox in one hand.
“I’m Larla, the esthetician.”
“The what-a-who-who?” I narrowed my eyes. I’d never heard the long word she said.
“Hair and beauty, dear.”
Oh. Who knew there was a fancy word for it? Why couldn’t she just say what she meant?
“Let’s take a look at you.” She walked around me, cocking her head a little as she moved. Occasionally, she held a finger out in front of her, the way my art teacher at school used to sometimes.
“You need a full overhaul to look like you’ve lived in Andaris your whole life. I’ll start with hair color.”
She led me into another room, where there was a table, chairs, and a big mirror along with some weird computer stuff along one wall.
Over the course of the next few hours, I sat in a chair in front of a mirror while Larla dyed my brown hair dark purple, then she teased it until it was shaped into a ragged but straight bob with a fringe.
Next, she dyed my eyebrows to match my hair.