Hotel Spacious, Vallinian Galaxy, Asteroid One-Eight-Nine. The year—twenty-forty-seven. June seventeenth, main lobby.

“Earth slime, where is my luggage, where is my key, and where is my welcome smile?”

The voice, high, arch, sounding vaguely Russian, greeted me as I made my way across the lobby of the Hotel Spacious. Chairs, sofas, perches for winged beings, pools for those beings that swam…my place of work had it all. 

Located on an asteroid, the Spacious was an immense hotel that housed all manners of intergalactic beings. As a bellhop, dishwasher, and all-around fetch-it guy, this had been my job since the beginning of June, and it would continue until August thirtieth. That is, if I didn’t go crazy first…

“Earth slime!”

Thanks for the wonderful greeting, I thought. Said question, and then said epithet came from Her High Ladyship, Mnoo-Mnew, a resident of the planet Sindari, a snob of the highest order, and a real snot, as far as I was concerned. 

Privately, I called her Ms. Manure. Most of my fellow workers had their own terms, but even though we were all different, and even though humans were considered the lowest on the totem pole, we all agreed that she was a major pain in the butt.

However, a job was a job, so publicly, I had to do the right thing, which meant smiling until my face hurt, doing whatever she and the other guests at Hotel Spacious wanted, and basically, as Norkus, my boss said, eating gunara—which was his world’s version of the word feces—and liking it.

And because she was a paying customer, I put on my cheesiest smile, hefted her luggage, and said with the utmost sincerity, “Your luggage is here, Your Ladyship. I have your room key in my pocket. One moment, please.”

Luggage on Earth was one thing, but her sole piece of luggage was a living being, a creature called a nimotsudan, a three-foot-long shapeshifting alien that could do all sorts of things.

Now, it had assumed the shape similar to that of a crocodile, as it enveloped her clothes and formed a handle in its mid-back so I could easily heft it. As we moved to her position, it softly purred, which relaxed me and put me in a slightly more positive frame of mind. 

We walked along, listening to the squeaks and squawks and roars and rumbles of the various guests. Her luggage briefly reverted to its default shape when it was awake—a very large cat with enormous sail-like ears, purple eyes, and blue spots all over its green body. 

It was friendly enough, but I reminded myself that alien beings weren’t always safe. After all, it was a shapeshifter, it was a living being, and living beings could sometimes be unpredictable—and dangerous. Its nine-inch claws told me that.

 “Thank you, Earth slime,” Her Ladyship said with all the pomposity of a to-the-manor-born royal. She even tilted her nose up in a gesture that meant that she was the Lord Goddess and the rest of us interstellar beings were dirt beneath her feet. “I do so need my clothing. One must always have something to wear in all sorts of company.”

Great, another dig. Most of the guests at this hotel held her attitude. It seemed that being wealthy gave people a sense of importance and self-entitlement. At less than five feet in height and just about as wide, with a face that could have sunk a thousand ships and a horrid smell of dirty grass and garbage that followed her wherever she went, I wondered just how she got dressed and who would dare to be with her. 

She wore something like a muumuu, multicolored, with openings for her arms—all six of them. Three arms to a side shot out, and if the image of a grossly fat spider emerged in one’s mind, it wasn’t unfounded.

In fact, one arm waved itself in the air, pincers instead of fingers snapping, and I pulled the voucher and key out of my pocket and handed them to her. We’d arrived at her room. She favored me with a smile, something she seldom did. She then took her luggage from me and disappeared behind her door. 

Of course, I got no tip. She probably had more money than the six richest people on Earth, but to give a tip to lowly old me, nah. It had probably never crossed her mind.

On her world, she held a position similar to the First Lady on Earth. Only Mnoo-Mnew liked to toss her weight around. Hence the Earth slime moniker, and for the umpteenth time, I wondered why I’d signed on for this. I was getting insulted on a daily basis, ate the same food every single day that made me long for a decent burger, and worked long hours.

 Oh, wait, it was the money. I needed it. The year was twenty-forty-seven, and Earth had recently made contact with a race known as the Borne. Rather, they had found us, popping in one day to a United Nations meeting and announcing that they were here to offer us jobs…

Six months earlier.

The Borne were a race of small people, under five feet in height and vaguely humanoid, with round, massive guts, skinny legs—four of them—and skinnier arms. They resembled ladybugs more than anything else, and, yes, they had wings, and they flew. 

Despite their appearance, they were ridiculously advanced in technology, and they governed a vast region of space. Governed wasn’t quite the right word, as they were a benign presence, keeping the peace through various races that worked for them, patrolled the cosmos, and kept order. The Borne administered many businesses, took a small percentage as profit, and plowed the rest of the money they made through trade and manufacturing into benefits for all.