Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 149470 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 598(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149470 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 598(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
About this time, I saw one of the medium-sized glass doors on the wall light up. A golden glow began to come from it and when I stepped closer, I saw a swirling pattern going on inside—kind of like a miniature tornado made of pink and green and blue and gold and purple glitter, I thought.
After a moment, Sir opened his eyes and the door made a ding sound—not that different from my microwave back home.
“Here we go! Have a seat at the table and I’ll bring your meal to you, little one,” Sir directed.
Obediently, I went and scrambled up onto the round metal bench—which was really cold against my bare behind, since I was still naked—and waited for my breakfast.
When it came it was…well, let’s just say it was underwhelming.
“This is it? This is what you expect me to eat?” I demanded, looking down at the golden bowl filled with little brown pellets. It looked not unlike the fancy dog kibble that Aunt Maizy fed her “babies.” And when I brought one of the pellets to my nose, it smelled dusty and dry and medicinal—like the inside of a bottle of vitamins or nutritional supplements. In a word, disgusting.
Sir frowned at me.
“Little one, I hope you’re not going to be a picky eater—that’s not desirable in a pet, you know. This ‘human chow’ is based on the recipe the Commercians provided me and it has one hundred percent of all the vitamins, minerals, and nutrients your little body needs to sustain itself.”
I put a hand on my hip.
“Well it looks like pet food.”
“It is pet food,” Sir rumbled, looking at me in an exasperated way.
“I mean it looks like something I would feed to a dog back on Earth,” I said, frowning. “An animal.” I pointed a finger at him. “And don’t you dare say that I’m an animal again because I do not agree with you that everyone who isn’t a Korrigon is an inferior life form.”
Sir’s face was beginning to look like a thundercloud. His dark brows drew down and his full-black eyes narrowed while his mouth went tight.
“Little one,” he said warningly. “You’re making me very disappointed. I thought we started our training very well this morning but refusing to eat is not acceptable for a pet.”
Okay, I could see that we were headed for trouble. If I continued to butt heads (lock horns?) with my new Master, I was going to wind up back in the narrow coffin-crate, which I did not want. Maybe it was time to try a different tack.
“Sir, please,” I said humbly, looking up at him from under my long eyelashes. “I’m sorry but I can’t eat something that smells and looks like this. I’ll just throw it right back up if I do—I have a very sensitive stomach.”
He looked even more frustrated.
“I can’t help the way it smells and looks, little one—I simply followed the recipe the Commercians gave me.”
“They’re three-foot-tall blue worms--what do they know about human nutrition? They might have given you a list of all the vitamins and minerals I need every day, but they left out everything else—like carbs and fiber and proteins,” I said quickly. “Don’t you know that humans are supposed to get their nutrition from eating whole foods like fruits and vegetables and things like that? The vitamins and minerals are in the fruits and meats and veggies—not separated out of them,” I pointed out.
Sir looked thoughtful.
“Hmm, you do make a good point, little one. But I want to be certain I’m not giving you something that will be bad for you and I know nothing about how your native food looks and tastes. So I cannot convey it to the Matter Synthesizer and ask it to make those foods for you.”
“What about letting me try to talk to the Matter Synthesizer?” I asked, nodding at the thin gold circlet around his temples. “I mean, I bet I can imagine it pretty well.”
But Sir shook his head emphatically.
“No, absolutely not! The Matter Synthesizer’s control band won’t work for a non-Korrigon mind. It might short out your underdeveloped brain!”
I sighed in frustration.
“Well, is there some way to translate it from me to you to the Matter Synthesizer?”
He frowned.
“I’m not certain. You and I haven’t formed a good strong Master/pet bond yet. Though I suppose I could try to read your mind…”
I was about to agree to this, when it occurred to me that if Sir could actually read my mind, he might see my plan to escape at the first available opportunity.
“I don’t know,” I hedged. “I mean, like you said, we haven’t, uh, formed our bond yet. I know though,” I added. “Why don’t I just eat whatever you eat? I mean, you’re taking me back to your planet, right? So why don’t I start learning the foods of my new home now?”