Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 144433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
"I do not even know what that means," I tell her wearily.
"Stay on your side, no touching me, and no thrashing around while you sleep. And no purring!"
She trots off, leaving me alone with a cheap blanket and her equally cheap bed.
No purring? She doesn't have to worry about that. Purring implies happiness or contentment.
I do not know that I shall ever purr again.
CHAPTER
SIXTEEN
MAEVE
Zhur is absolutely the bed-hog I expected him to be. No surprise there. I wake up to find myself clinging to the edge of the mattress, cocooned in my blanket and clutching a kitchen knife I wrapped in a dishcloth so I wouldn't stab myself in my sleep. His arms are flung wide, he's on his back, and he's snoring loudly.
I sit up, feeling about as rested as dirt. I want to go back to sleep, but I suspect that won't be happening with Lord Hairball sprawling himself over the mattress. I wait on the edge of the bed for a moment, groggy at the early hour, and then get to my feet. "Rise and shine," I announce. "We've got a lot to do today."
He ignores me.
I move to his side of the bed and shake his shoulder, noticing that his fluffy white fur has gotten snarled overnight. "Come on. If I can't sleep late, you can't sleep late either."
Zhur pulls the blankets over his head. "Leave me here so I can rot upon this forsaken planet."
So dramatic. I swear, it's like hanging out with a teenager. "You're being a big baby. Don't you want to find out what happened to your trunks? And you're supposed to get ahold of someone about your money, right?"
"No one will be up this early. No one with an ounce of sanity, that is." And he adds a pillow over his head. "Leave me be, servant."
Ugh. "I didn't want to spend time with you anyway."
It's probably for the best, even if I'm annoyed. I leave him alone and grab a change of clothing, then eat a stale muffin leftover from Simone's bread stand. I need to get more, just like I need to get answers. I'm not going to be doing much cooking for myself until he's gone, just because I now have to keep the ruse up. It's so much work being a smart-ass sometimes. I find my boots and put them on, then begin the trek into town. As I do, it begins sprinkling with rain, and I pull out the rain slicker I keep in the carry-all that I bring with me everywhere, and trot a little faster. The rain isn't a good thing, because it means no one is going to be hanging around in town. Simone was just joking the other day that she closes up shop when it rains and...
Sure enough, when I make it to Main Street, Simone's little bread stall on her rolling cart is nowhere to be found. Shit. I really need to talk to her. I don't have her address or her comm unit ID, and I suspect it would seem weird if I went to the custodians and started asking for personal information.
I'll just talk to Kazex directly, then. He'd mentioned before that he didn't want to get too involved with colonists and I'd promised to not contact him again, but that was before they'd mistakenly delivered the most spoiled alien in the galaxy instead of my pet. He's just going to have to deal. I head over to the empty building that he and a few other of the bright red, tattooed alien guys are revamping. Every day I come into town, I see them there, someone using a power tool or hefting a crate through the doors.
Just my luck—the place is empty today, the doors locked and sealed. I try peering through the glass to peek inside but it's tinted and I can't see a thing. I knock.
And knock.
And knock. Just in case they're avoiding me. I keep knocking until my knuckles hurt and start to swell. I suck on my aching knuckles, looking around the empty, wet street. The only person out right now is me...and a custodian in uniform making his rounds despite the rain. I pause under an awning, mouthing my hand and trying to think of a plan. Where is everyone?
An alien dockworker staggers out of the cantina down the street, the custodians eyeing him.
Aha. If someone knows what's going on, the barkeep will. He's going to know what his competition is up to.
I trot inside, shaking water off my poncho and beaming at the barkeep.
It's a szzt behind the bar, and despite the creepy unblinking fish eyes and needle teeth, he does his best to be cordial. The place is empty this morning, just like everything else, and I'm the only customer. He waves me over. "Come in, come in. What would you like to drink?"