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)
“Oh—who’s that? I mean, what kind of Alien is he?” little one asked me in a low voice, as she pointed to the Cantor across the hall. He was spreading and flexing a pair of vast, deep blue, feathered wings which sprouted from his back as he tried out the new feather oil a dealer was trying to sell him.
“A Cantor—one of the Twelve Peoples—the humanoid species that populate your galaxy, little one,” I told her. “According to their legends, the Goddess of Mercy sent the Ancient Ones to spread their DNA throughout the planets, allowing new creatures to grow in her image. Your own Earth is the only Closed Planet,” I added. “Which is why you have never met any of the others who inhabit your galaxy.”
“Wow,” she breathed, still looking around her with wide eyes. “There are so many weird people here. I mean, so many aliens. But other than that, it’s kind of like a cross between a craft fair and an open-air farmer’s market.”
I didn’t know about the “open air” part. True, the vaulted ceiling of the space port was so high above us it couldn’t be seen, but the entire place was enclosed in a giant atmosphere dome, so the air was definitely indoors—though it was cleaned and recycled throughout the Great Hall continuously.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying the spaceport,” I said, smiling down at her. It was a primitive place, but the creatures here were all doing their best and living their lives. I felt strongly that they should be allowed to continue doing so—though my rival, unfortunately, felt differently. I only hoped the case that I made to Splendara the Third and Thirtieth would be stronger than his.
My candalla waved agreeably as I strolled along with my curvy new pet, enjoying the sights. He was sated for now but he would probably try creeping between little one’s thighs if I let her sleep with me again, as I had the night before. And if he insisted on filling her and coming in her again, it would doubtless ruin my sheets, I thought with a frown.
This reminded me that I wanted to buy her a pet bed. I could synthesize her one, of course, but I specifically wanted one from here—something she could remember her own galaxy by. Besides, there was a certain pleasure in the primitive action of haggling for goods and then paying for them, rather that just creating them out of thin air.
“Come, little one,” I told her. “I think there is a shop not far from here that sells warm, comfortable pet beds. You can pick whichever one you like.”
“Yes, Master.” She nodded agreeably and followed me docilely enough, walking beside me and a little behind me as though she had been leash trained all her life. I congratulated myself again on choosing a sentient pet to prove my point in Court. Little one was so intelligent that only half a day’s training had been enough to teach her most of what she needed to know to be a good pet—that spoke highly for her species.
Of course, I would need to show her a few more things about how to behave in the presence of Splendara the Third and Thirtieth, but I was confident she could pick up Court etiquette as quickly as she had picked up her other training.
We passed a few more stands—one selling flesh-eating plant life from Verberra Axios, where I was careful to keep myself between little one and the plants—and finally found the stand I had been looking for.
It was kept by a merchant from O’nagga Nine, our very next destination. Speaking to him on a previous refueling stop had made me decide to visit his home world and gather data on its inhabitants. He had the pale white skin and dark hair of his kind with distinctive slit pupils and glowing blue eyes that glittered in the overhead lights.
His name was Hs’lx and I liked him, despite the fact that he was from a primitive world—well, at least compared to my own. But then, every world is primitive compared to Korrigon Four.
Hs’lx carried a bit of everything in his stall. Behind him were rows and rows of merchandise of all kinds, from Fruberian chamber pots that collected waste and used it to fertilize fast-growing plants that grew honeybread-fruits for the user’s consumption, to Vornish blades, so sharp they were said to be able to slice a strand of hair in half lengthwise.
“Ah, Overlord!” he greeted me genially enough.
“Hello, Hs’lx.” I nodded at him. “I’ve come back to see you again.”
“And it’s glad I am that you have, your Honor,” he said, grinning widely enough to show the sharp, curving fangs in his upper teeth. Have I mentioned that the Naggians need to drink the blood of others to survive? This trait makes them fearsome to some, but they are quite civilized about it—at least according to Hs’lx—and only drink from willing donors or Blood Whores, who offer a sip of their life-essence for a price.