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 wave a hand idly. "It's a figure of speech. You're just mad because you know I'm right. You stand out. You're not gonna blend with all the dockworkers out there. I've seen other cat aliens and they look nothing like you. They're fluffy orange guys—"
Zhur huffs. "Commoners."
Sure. Whatever. I don't know anything about cat aliens but if he thinks the orange ones are “lesser” than him, he's really not going to have a high opinion of humans. So many of these aliens are snobs. "You got a cloak or a hat or something?"
"In my trunks, I imagine I have a great many."
Ah yes, the thirty missing trunks. "Shit. Okay. Let's see what we can find around here. Maybe your trunks have been stashed nearby somewhere." Long shot, but it shuts him up.
We dig around the apartment, looking for closets or storage spaces, but there's nothing. It's empty save for a basic chair and table, and a single bed with nothing under it. My new friend Zhur doesn't do much looking. In fact, he stands around and glares at me with his arms crossed while I do all the investigating, like he's personally blaming me or something.
After I look under the bed a second time, I sit on the edge of the bare, gel-like mattress. "Nothing here. No thirty trunks. No message from your friend Zebah."
He gives me another incensed stare. "I told you, there would be no message. Just like there is no disguise."
But I'm still thinking. There was nothing in his coffin-pod, but other cat aliens are living in this building. I snap my fingers as a new idea hits me. "Let's see if anyone else on this floor left their door open and we can grab something to disguise you."
Zhur looks absolutely appalled. "You're suggesting we steal like common thieves?"
I give him a sweet smile. "You're right. I should just leave a strange building in the middle of the day with a big fluffy white cat man at my side that no one on this planet has ever seen before. I'm sure we'll totally blend in with the dockworkers. The commoners, you like to call them."
He's silent for a long moment, his eyes narrowed, and I can practically hear the wheels turning in his head. No doubt he's weighing the problems of stealing versus getting recognized. I'm not entirely surprised when he grunts. "Fine. Let's steal something."
CHAPTER
SEVEN
ZHURRRVAS
I have crossed the galaxy undetected. Abandoned my home on Praxii Minor in the dead of night. Escaped in an uncomfortable stasis pod and left behind all my clothes, my friends, and my life. Avoided assassins thus far.
And all of it is almost for naught because the moment we step into the hall, we immediately run into another person. This one is a szzt, and he eyes us both with trepidation.
Meev, the irritating human servant, immediately pounces on him. "Oh, hey, can we pay you for a cloak or a hat or something?"
The male looks at me, then at her. I shrug, because I don't know what else to do. If he recognizes me...
"A hundred credits for a rain slicker," he says.
"A hundred credits?!" Meev is appalled. "No fucking way—"
"We will take it," I interrupt. "And you show us the back way out of this building."
He puts his hand out, waiting. Meev looks at me.
As if I'm supposed to pay? She's the servant. "Well, go on," I tell her. "Pay him."
Her pale, furless face turns pink and she mutters something under her breath even as she digs around in her pockets. After a moment, she pulls out a handful of credit tokens and then shakes her head. "I've only got thirty on me."
"It's fine," the szzt says, scooping them up. "Follow me."
He heads down the hall and back to his door, grabs an ugly yellow slicker that has the Port logo on it and WORKER emblazoned across the back. The hood barely fits over my head and the thing is absolutely not worth thirty credits. Nor is it raining. But he takes us down another floor and points at a stairwell behind a heavy door. "This goes out the back of the building. Maintenance route. No one will notice you."
"Excellent, thank you." Meev beams at him.
The male pauses, regarding us. He doesn't leave. He just eyes us speculatively.
"You may go now," I suggest.
"I'm just trying to figure out which one of you is the sex worker and how much you charge." He lifts his chin at Meev. "Is it you? You taking on more clients?"
"Ew!" she says, appalled. "You pig!" And she shoves through the door, heading up the stairs.
The szzt looks nonplussed. His gaze swings to me. "So it's you? Are you taking on more clients?"
My lip curls. How dare he. "No."
"Too bad. You got nice fur." He jingles the credits in his hand. "Thanks for the funds."