Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 46803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
But what options do I have? I could demand he let me off the ship and avoid the chaos which is almost certainly coming, but I am loyal to my family. My other brothers are not burdened with the same level of dedication. Someone has to try to keep things sane. Someone has to be responsible. Arkan thinks the latter position is his. It is not. It is mine. The burden of keeping this family alive has been mine since our father passed.
I try not to be bitter, even as my efforts go unacknowledged. I am the one who runs the human pet shop books. I am the one who understands the accounts. It is I who presents to the council of Elders, who negotiates with others. Arkan is eldest, and that is all.
I leave his presence before I lose my temper. These unbalanced familial dynamics are fast coming to a head. I cannot cover for every one of my brothers’ rash actions. One of us has abandoned the family completely, the other now makes his home among humans, and Arkan, Arkan seems intent on war.
The human soldiers have given themselves the run of the ship, another decision of Arkan’s. He believes they will be more settled and less aggressive if they do not believe themselves to be prisoners. I believe them to be arrogant and destructive regardless, and if it was my choice they would be confined to a single bay on the lower deck.
Instead I am forced to endure yet another indignity at the hands of Arkan’s guests: small talk.
“Big guy!”
The leader of the humans approaches me with a broad grin which implies he imagines himself to be my friend. Of course he is anything but. If it was up to me, I would strip him of all weaponry and send him back to where he came from, albeit a more remote location than the city from which they originated, a place they help control with violence and fear. Most of the trouble with humans — and the reason we decided they needed help and rescuing in the first place, is their chaotic, warlike tendencies.
“Yes, human?”
“The boys were thinking, it might be nice if we could…”
My mind tunes out the rest of his odious request. This creature should not have the nerve to address me. He should be on his knees, wearing a war collar. I made one shortly after their collective arrival. It is a more vicious version of the collar Stella is wearing. It would not give spankings. It would give one warning pulse and then drop a grown man like a sack of potatoes.
I’ve suggested we fit the soldiers with my invention, but Arkan disagrees with that plan too. He has become convinced that people can be allies rather than owned creatures. I blame his pet for that.
“So anyway, we were thinking…”
The human is still talking about some adjustments or something or other his engineers want to make to their quarters. He should be afraid to address me, let alone speak to me with such insolent, casual tones. My hands flex inadvertently as I do my best to restrain myself from kicking him to the ground and putting my boot on his neck.
Yet again, I reflect on the fact that this is our family vessel, and my brother has seen fit to let humans have the run of it. This is what happens when a Euphorian gives into desire for humans. This perversion of all that is good and proper is the result. Humans run in our private places like vermin.
I put my hands behind my back to hide the clenching and make a show of listening to the soldier. He wishes to be able to play some sort of game in the cargo bay. I give my permission with a swift nod. There is little point in denying them anything. Arkan will only say yes if I say no.
Having been accosted by the human, I return to my quarters. I have spent many hours and days here working on various plans, trying to come up with some method of returning to Euphoria without setting off a civil war — not to mention trying to ensure that the importation of human pets from Earth is ceased forthwith. We are meddling with forces we do not understand, and it is causing suffering and pain.
The human, Stella, is asleep in my bed when I return. I hear the soft, slow rhythm of her breathing. It is pleasant, even though I am officially still irritated by all things human. Sitting down at my desk, I return to my labors. There is much to be done.
I lose track of time, immersed in my work. I have drafted many letters, one to each of the council and several to the older and more powerful members of the Wrathelder clan. I am hoping that diplomacy might yet lead to a peaceful outcome, but I know the likelihood is low.