Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 47529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
Gross.
She falls silent once more as the alien woman passes by.
“Are you afraid to speak?”
She shakes her golden head swiftly.
“The aliens don’t like it when you speak out loud. It’s best to stay silent when you can. They prefer eye contact and signing. Words are very primitive to them. Our speech is like a dog barking. You should learn to lower your voice and speak only when you absolutely have to. It will make your life much easier.”
I am deprived of any further pearls of wisdom from Melinda, for her owner returns, clips the leash onto her collar without so much as a word of warning, and proceeds to walk away, leaving Melinda apparently happily trotting in her wake. I am shocked and dismayed.
I am also keen to escape this gathering. It’s fortunate that the aliens like an ornate style of dress, especially the women who favor full skirts. It means that if I stoop just a little I am quite quickly hidden in a sea of fabric.
All the heads of the aliens turn in one direction at once as an unspoken word gets their collective attention.
My owner has worked out that he has lost me, and appears to be silently, but rather frantically, asking for help in retrieving me. I’m sure it’s not because he cares about me, but because he just spent what seems to be a lot of money on me.
The aliens start to look for me en masse, and I realize there’s about ten seconds before one of them grabs me. I do not want to be caught. The nearest door is on the other side of the hall. I think I can make it. There’s just one obstacle in the way, a great big long obstacle in the form of the table that holds all the food everybody is shoveling into their mouths.
They spot me.
If this was a group of humans, someone would shout THERE SHE IS! Or GET HER!
But in this group of largely silent aliens, all that happens is several dozen heads swivel toward me at the same time, and a series of eyes lock on me all at once. It is like being spotted by a horde of silent, statuesque, superhuman predators.
Adrenaline spikes, and I decide there’s nothing for it. I run and I jump, intending to vault the table and dash down the other side of the room. But the table is taller than I expect it to be. It’s made to their scale, not mine. So instead of jumping over it, I sort of fly into it and slide, belly down, through a banquet-length table of delicacies. As I crash through the plates and treats, accumulating a great deal of food on my person, I see a look of pure horror on Melinda’s face.
Somewhere in the room, someone makes a faint utterance of surprise. This is now a complete debacle.
If this were a movie, I’d slide down the table, out the doors and forward somersault to freedom. But this is real, and friction means I slide about five feet before coming to a halt more or less inside what used to be a cream cake.
There’s silence when I stop, a complete and utter absence of sound broken only by the muffled gasps of Melinda who is trying her very best not to laugh out loud at my misfortune.
The alien who had the misfortune to buy me picks me up off the table, two hands gripping the back of my garment. He is harried and embarrassed. I’m fortunate these aliens aren’t given to violence very often. If they were, I know he’d be beating my ass. Instead, he’s far too worried about himself. I am carried out of the gathering in the custody of the alien who has purchased my very life, no closer to freedom than I was when I began.
Back at Arkan’s house…
I’m starting to think that Arkan and his family are what we used to called old money, back on Earth. Before the rebellion of 202-whatever, when all the billionaires were summarily, let’s just say, eaten. Some of what happened to them was better. A lot of it was worse.
“I’m going to open the cage,” he says, his eyes flashing with alien warning. “When I do, I’m going to put a leash on you. If you make this hard for me, I will punish you again, and I can promise you it will not feel any better the second time around.”
I resolve then and there to bite his hand the second he puts it into my cage. I intend to make this more than hard for him. I am going to make this absolutely impossible for him.
Sure enough, the door of the crate opens, just a crack, enough for him to reach for me. Without hesitation, I latch onto his hand and I bite down hard.