Simikus stepped inside.
The Starview was packed with patrons, its floors teaming with dancers moving to the undulating rhythms of the live somasar music that filled the establishment. Simikus felt instantly out of place, as all of the beings in his immediate vicinity hurled a barrage of disdainful glances his way. Nicovan were not popular with the general public. Only a few of his species had ever been accepted into the social upper crust, and those grudgingly.
Ignoring the glaring eyes, Simikus moved deeper into the restaurant. Rudof Dyll was rumored to have his own private table. Simikus hoped the rumor was true. If he could just speak to Dyll, he knew that he could convince the rich Human to do business with him.
Nobody was ever rich enough, right?
Simikus looked around; he was growing increasingly anxious. Surely the rumors of Dyll frequenting the place were true. They had to be; all of Simikus's plans hinged on Rudof Dyll. Without Dyll, who else was big enough to deal with Simikus on the level he wanted?
Malik Blayne, possibly, but that man was too enigmatic, too hard to find.
No. It had to be Rudof Dyll.
Just as he was beginning to sweat, Simikus looked up and spotted his intended business partner. Dyll's table was situated on one of the floating platforms drifting over the dance floors.
Though he had never before laid eyes on Rudof Dyll, there was no doubt in Simikus's mind as to who he was looking at. The Human was so wonderfully gaudy that Simikus could only stare. What wealth, what style! Simikus sighed in unconscious envy as he took in Dyll's loose, frilly shirt, studded with sparkling… jewels? Yes, jewels by the score. Turning a faint purple with envy, Simikus envisioned himself in such clothing.
As the platform rotated in his direction, he was enraptured by the profusion of glinting gold rings that marched up Dyll's ear lobes, wrapped around his fingers, and there was even a ringlet looped through his right nostril.
The only thing about Dyll's appearance that even Simikus's healthy imagination could not apply to himself, was the red and yellow mane of hair that the Human wore tied behind his head by a golden clasp. Nicovan had no hair. Simikus smiled—well, then, what he lacked in hair, he would simply make up for with additional jewels.
Someone seized him by the arm and spun him about.
"What do you think you're doing in here, Neek?"