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)
Zhur grows crestfallen once more. "I am afraid I have no choice. Until we can contact Zebah, it is best if we stay together."
Best for who exactly? But then I remember that he could blackmail me and sell me out to the custodians. Like it or not, I'm stuck with his ass. "Then come on. And if you say one smart comment, you can sleep in the barn."
He says nothing—which is good—and I head down the long path and to my house. It's small, all right. If I were back on Earth I'd say it's a one-bedroom apartment with just a bit more closet space. I have a small, battered sofa and a few cushions that someone gave me as a housewarming present. I have a tiny kitchen with a few pretty jars of colorful pickled veg from another colonist who's much better at the whole homesteading thing than I am. I have a rag rug on the floor and my bed is neatly made. At the foot of it is the empty cat bed I so happily put together a short time ago.
Just seeing it makes me sad. Like I'm going to be alone forever.
Bright side—I'm not alone right now. I give the cat alien a speculative look. If ever there was a captive audience...
Zhur is looking around at my place as if his world is falling apart. He tries—and fails—to mask the horror on his face at the interior of my place.
"What do you think?" I prompt.
His gaze jerks to me and I can see him fighting to find something positive to say. "It is...cozy."
The word comes out strangled, and I have to smother a laugh. "The coziest," I agree. "A few more years of good crop farming and I might be able to add on to the place. Maybe get running water."
I'm messing with him. I absolutely have running water and they pay us well for the crops we ship out. Lord va'Rin wants us to have a measure of independence, but to be honest, I haven't exactly been buckling down on the farming situation to earn every penny because...why? There's nothing to buy. There's nothing I want. Some women are saving up for a fertility shot. Me, I just wanted a cat and it seems I can't even get that.
"You don't have running water?" He stares at me, aghast. "I thought this place was civilized."
"Oh, it is," I say, having a good time with this. "But we have to work towards it, you know." I gesture at the fireplace. "You want me to start a fire so we can eat something?"
The cat man blinks at me. "You...you cook over a fire?"
Does this guy not know I'm fucking with him? "Only if I want hot food."
"It...doesn't have to be hot," he says slowly. "And I find I have no appetite as it is. May I look around?" He gestures at my house.
"Be my guest." I sit on a corner of the couch, hugging a pillow and wondering how long I can carry this on for. Is it mean to do this to him? Deflate that ego of his a little? I watch his feline lip curl as he moves toward the kitchen and decide...nah. He needs to be fucked with.
Zhur wanders into the kitchen, touching the stove and then the sink. He turns back to me. "These—these aren't for cooking?"
Does he not know what a stove looks like? Then again, the one in my house closely resembles a human stove, and maybe it was specially made for the refugees. Maybe it doesn't look like the type of stove he's used to. "They're not," I say sweetly. "They're for warming towels."
He huffs. "It seems quite foolish to warm towels and not provide a method of warming food."
"Well, I tried warming the towels over the fireplace but they kept catching on fire." I keep waiting for him to eye me and say that I'm full of shit. But he only opens the door to the oven, peers inside, and then closes it again.
"Barbarism," he huffs again. "Sheer barbarism. I'm going to wear Zebah's hide like a cape when I find her."
Maybe this guy hasn't seen a kitchen.
CHAPTER
NINE
ZHURRRVAS
I think my human companion may be stupid.
Either that or the conditions the humans are living in are truly this terrible. I look around at the small, tidy place that she claims is her homestead and fight back a wave of despair. If I were given these lodgings, I would demand to speak to whoever was in charge. I would insist upon an upgrade.
I would certainly insist upon running water.
Yet I'm aware that humans have a very precarious place in the galaxy. Their race is considered illegal to own, and yet they are not respected enough to be taken seriously when they are independent. They're viewed, more or less, as intelligent pets, but still as pets. No doubt that Meev cannot afford to anger those that gifted her with her homestead.