Free Rion by Susan Kearney Page B

that was more appropriate for clubbing than for a fugitive. But blending in with the general
     populace was her immediate goal. She ended up wearing a minidress with a halter top and strappy sandals that made her think
     Manolo Blahnik was an alien.
    “Please insert five credits.”
    She placed the chips into a blinking slot. Marisa had no idea what to expect. She should have asked Rion more questions. But
     when silver flakes began to fall from the ceiling, then spun around her before adhering to her skin, she held out her arms
     and watched in amazement. Her skin turned silvery blue, the flakes drying on contact. Other flakes stuck to her hair and turned
     it silver.
    Wow. She could make a fortune with this machine back home. Talk about the end of prejudice. When anyone could change skin
     color or features, ethnicity and race based on looks became irrelevant. This machine alone could have stopped wars and saved
     millions of lives. When the flakes stopped falling, she climbed out of the tub and dressed. Her shoes were now dyed to match
     her new clothing, which looked way too large, but after she put it on, it shrank to fit her perfectly. Nice technology.
    Still, reluctant to leave her own clothing behind, she scooped up her Earth things and tucked them under her arm.
    Rion stood waiting for her in the lobby, and she handed him her old clothes. He took in her hair, her skin, her short dress,
     and he whistled. “You look… amazing.”
    She almost thanked him for the compliment, before she bit back the words. Damn him for making her feel good. She shouldn’t
     care what the hell her kidnapper thought about her appearance.
    Rion shoved her clothes into his pack, which gave her time to check him out. He’d also chosen silver skin tint, and his hair
     was now navy blue. He wore a dove gray shirt with royal purple piping and charcoal pants. Somehow the clothing suited him
     more than his Earth clothing ever had. His shoulders looked broader, the cords in his neck thicker, his chest more powerful.
     Despite his effort to blend, Rion would draw attention wherever he went.
    He escorted her out the door. “We haven’t much time.”
    “How do you know?”
    “An Enforcer squad is sweeping the area.”
    With her silver-blue skin and hair, she felt less conspicuous. But Merlin had no trouble finding them. Out of the corner of
     her eye, she glimpsed a flutter of Merlin’s wings as the owl dropped onto an overhead ledge.
    Keeping an eye out for Enforcers, Marisa stayed beside Rion as they threaded their way between slower groups of people, traveling
     at the same pace as the fastest pedestrians. Breaking into a run would draw attention—or so she assumed.
    “Enforcers, ahead,” she whispered.
    “Stay calm.” Rion held her tightly and she ducked her head, letting the hat shade her face.
    Marisa held her breath until the Enforcers strode right by them. Thanks to the disguises, they didn’t stop.
    “That was close.” After the encounter, Marisa couldn’t stop shaking. “How did the Enforcers get so much power?”
    “It’s complicated. But the bottom line is that people on Tor were fearful of an invasion. In exchange for the safety and protection
     they wanted, they gave away too much power and freedom. Eventually the Enforcers took over, dominating… everyone. Now they
     are too powerful for the citizens to abolish them. But what is worse is that some of us suspect that the Enforcers are covert
     members of the Tribes.”
    That old saying that absolute power corrupts absolutely seemed to be a universal constant, not just a pattern on Earth. Marisa
     kept walking, her mind spinning from one angle to the next. “If the Torans feared a Unari invasion, wouldn’t it have been
     to their benefit to have helped you after you escaped your world?”
    “The Torans fear Honor’s dragonshapers as much as they fear the Unari.”
    “Why?”
    “They believe Honor wants to take over Tor. That’s why the antigravs in the city