Total pages in book: 175
Estimated words: 166095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 830(@200wpm)___ 664(@250wpm)___ 554(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 166095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 830(@200wpm)___ 664(@250wpm)___ 554(@300wpm)
Which goes against everything I am.
Bethiah’s Rule of Corsairing number two—never let them anticipate your next move.
I collect the bits of Dora’s DNA—because I don’t like the thought of it just lying around in the station for some other unscrupulous jerk to clone—and I try to think what wouldn’t be expected. It’s clear they either expect me to come after Dora and put myself in danger, or they expect me to leave the station and forget all about her. Those are the obvious choices.
I need something less obvious that won’t cause Dora to be in danger.
A ransom? Nah. Something tells me this isn’t about credits.
A trade? Now that sounds nice and logical and like something I would absolutely not do…which means it’s on the table. But what could I trade for a pretty little human with a clever mind and a big heart?
The answer comes to me immediately—another human, of course.
I’m not going to replace Dora. It’s strange, but I miss the fluffit terribly. I miss her clinginess. I miss the way she curls up behind me in bed and nuzzles her face against my back, as if I’m her safe place in the universe. Didn’t take long for me to disappoint her in that aspect—I couldn’t keep her safe at the first station we visited, and that gnaws at me. I wonder if I’m doomed to have emotions for humans that inevitably leave me for one reason or another.
Maybe the humans aren’t the problem. Maybe it’s me.
Nah.
Humans are fickle creatures. For all I know, Dora is just like Rhonda—she’s found a new master to latch onto, one that will promise her all the safety in the universe and actually deliver in a way that I can’t. If that’s the case, I’ll never see the fluffit again. Never see her tremulous smile as she punches the controls on the ship, looking up to me in the hopes that I’ll praise her. Never see the sleepy expression on her face in the morning as she’s tucked in next to me, never…
Bah, now I’m getting all maudlin.
I get dressed and head out of the hotel room I’m staying in. I’m not a big fan of staying on station, but if I went back to my ship, it’d be a sign that I intend on leaving Dora behind, and I don’t want her to think that. For some reason, I hate the thought of hurting my fluffit’s feelings.
So…maybe I shouldn’t buy another human. I think about Dora and how hurt she would be once she found that out. It’s that hurt that makes me pause.
All right, so I can’t purchase a new human to throw things off. I can’t follow the trail that they’re leaving for me. I can’t leave the station. I head towards the main atrium of Three Nebulas, where most of the trading takes place. And as I do, I think. How do I get Dora back without making it seem like I want her back?
The easiest solution would be to walk into the trap that’s being set for me and let them have me. It would be a little expected…but would it really? They should know I’m smart enough to know it’s a trap. Maybe that’s the point. Maybe they know that I know, and so if I go in to it, that’s unexpected…my head hurts just trying to process this. I head for my favorite leaf vendor—the one that’s not working for the guild—and get myself an extra-large basket of disgustingly greasy leaves to munch on as I walk the station and consider things.
If I turn myself in to Dora’s kidnapper, there won’t be a meet-up with Jamef whenever he finally makes it to the station. That’s a little disappointing. Okay, a lot disappointing. I’m going to miss out on our games, but what can I do? I know he doesn’t have Dora. His code of honor won’t let him touch a human unless there’s a bounty attached…
Just like he won’t touch me unless there’s a relationship attached. Such a difficult male.
I walk and eat, and I think. I could always turn myself in to the station’s authorities. Take myself out of the equation entirely. Now that would be unexpected. But with my luck, they’d immediately ship me off to the nearest prison planet. No thanks.
Strolling through the narrow halls as I munch on my leaves, I find myself heading for the seedier vendors, the ones I know that trade in goods they shouldn’t. Next to a nose-spice smuggler who’s trying very hard not to be noticed, I see a wealthy-looking ooli hovering at the front of a feminine-seeming tent. He beams at me and steps backward, allowing me to see the goods he’s selling—three humans. Two females and a young male. All three of them have red eyes and tear-stained cheeks.