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)
“What are you doing?” The question emanates from somewhere near my elbow.
I startle, albeit without actually moving or making a sound as Stella breaks my attention. I had almost forgotten she was there. I get so immersed in my work that I often forget to eat or to drink, but I suppose having a pet around means forgetting is no longer an option.
She looks rested and happy for the moment, however, and more interested in the contents of my desk than the contents of her stomach.
“Working,” I answer her question.
“What are you working on?”
“It’s complicated.”
“I have time.”
She looks at me with curious dark eyes, and though I know there is little point in talking to a freshly captive human about matters of state, I suppose it cannot hurt either. It will be, at the very minimum, at least as satisfying as talking to a wall.
“Matters of politics on our world,” I say. “My brother and I are returning to our world with blood on our hands.”
“Really? Wow. Very cool.”
“Not very cool,” I correct her.
“Sorry, I’m used to people saying they have blood on their hands like it is a good thing. I think the meaning of the phrase has changed over the years. It seems like it should be bad, but nowadays, with war being constant and the city being such a fucking mess, having blood on your hands is kind of just like, a Tuesday, I guess?”
“Well, it is not like a Tuesday on our world. We are an orderly and largely peaceful species.”
“Why do you have such big fangs and tusks, then? They kind of make you look like oversized staple removers from a certain angle. Is that what you evolved as? Staple removers?”
“No,” I laugh. “We evolved as apex predators on our world, just as humans did on yours. The fangs and tusks are largely vestigial now.”
I never thought talking to a human would be satisfying. Usually conversations with them are like having conversations with a self-involved, barely sentient little beast. But Stella seems genuinely interested in me, and in the matters I am referring to, even if she does not have an understanding of any of the wider issues.
She leans on the desk and looks up at me. “Are you important then, you and your brother? Politically? Are you powerful?”
“Our family has historically been influential in politics, yes. But our father was slain, and our mother either seduced or bribed away, and the result is that we are something of the black sheep of our world. We are still part of the nobility. Still influential. Still possessed of some wealth.”
“Rich and handsome,” she says. “What a score. I’m surprised you're not married.”
I glance over at her to see if she is being sarcastic. She is smiling, but it is hard to say why. This human keeps her secrets, and I sense she has many.
“I am not interested in marriage,” I tell her. “That is a human custom.”
She rests her chin on her hands, her eyes running over documents I know she cannot hope to read. Our written system is far too complex for humans to learn, especially wild, rough things like this young woman.
“I think marriage is very romantic,” she says. “Pledging your entire life to someone else, promising to be there for them no matter what. It’s about loyalty, really, isn’t it.”
“I had not thought about it that way.”
“That’s funny,” she says, glancing back at my many papers. “Seems to me like you think about everything pretty much every way it could be thought about.”
I look at her with no small measure of surprise. That was a very insightful comment for a human, especially one who has only just come into my custody and has been absolutely insensate for weeks. She pays attention, clearly. I know it is just a survival skill, but I would be lying if I said it was not the slightest bit flattering to have some facet of myself noticed.
“I have not had time to consider marriage. I have been busy considering all the many other things.”
“Hm,” she nods. “So you’re the paperwork guy. There’s always a paperwork guy. My father said he’s the one with the real power, because he’s the only one who really knows what’s going on.”
“Your father sounds like a wise man.”
“He’s a lot of things. I guess wise is one of them. What’s all this paperwork about? Do advanced aliens have to fill in a lot of forms?”
“These are plans, and letters of explanation,” I say. ‘When we return to our world, we are returning to a complicated political situation. It will matter who we, or I, I suppose, can get on our side if peace is to be maintained. I have mapped out multiple scenarios in which various factions are either for, or against us, and how events are likely to pan out based on those scenarios.”