Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 63580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
There’s something about breakfast the morning after the night before that’s giving me big walk of shame energy even though I am not walking anywhere.
Fortunately for my growing sense of blushing awkwardness, there’s a knock at the door.
Freak answers it. Someone is looking for Caducaeus Stendate. Freak goes out into the passage to speak to the man. I bet we’re about to be kicked off. Or maybe the researchers have traced him here and found him, and they’re going to drag us both off, and then I’ll be experimented on…
I am catastrophizing at full speed, and things are getting worse by the moment. Mostly imaginary things, but with the recent events in my life, I feel as though freaking out is probably the right thing to do.
I don’t want to be kidnapped by an alien who tells me his name is Freak and everyone else that his name is Caducaeus. I don’t want to be an owned pet, even if the sex is hot. I’ve got stuff to do. I have an important mission to complete.
Now that Freak isn’t in the room with me, my head is starting to clear. I could blame him for messing with my mind, but I think I let my mind mess with me enough that he doesn’t really have to do anything special and alien to me. I got all swoony over him. I got distracted by how hot and advanced and mostly naked he is. I have control over my own mind. He might be able to read it, but he’s not making me do anything… is he?
Then again, something definitely happens to me when I’m in his presence. He swept me out of danger on my ship and now when I am with him, I feel a kind of safety I’ve only been able to imagine of late. I used to know it, but then it was taken away from me.
Whatever the reason, now that he’s not bewitching me with his golden alien eyes, I feel more like my usual self—and myself doesn’t wait in rooms while aliens hold her captive and wait for her to accept that she belongs to them as her pet.
I sneak up to the door and listen. I don’t hear anything. I crack the door open, and I don’t see him either. They must have gone off somewhere to do something.
We’re well underway on this voyage, but I may be able to find a life pod and make an escape that way.
I pad away down the hall, heading toward what I hope is an emergency exit. A ship like this can be labyrinthian.
Fortunately, there are signs. Unfortunately, they’re not in a script I can read.
I see an alien I think belongs to the crew, given it is wearing a silver, beige, and red uniform. I kind of like it, actually. It looks like the apparel is modeled after a sneaker. The alien himself is a tall, gangly creature with a big head and wide eyes. He is wearing a name tag that says Florp. I’m not entirely sure how that is pronounced.
“Excuse me, where’s the nearest emergency exit?” I ask him.
He turns slowly and look down at me with a gaze that somehow manages to be blank and judgmental at the same time.
“Shouldn’t you be with your owner?”
“What do you mean?”
“Unattended humans are the property of the management,” he says. “Are you unattended, or are you with your owner?”
“Humans are recognized as a sentient species with the ability to self-determine.”
“Sounds like you’re unattended.” He reaches for me. I gasp and dash away. I am not in the mood to be classified as unattended. I don’t know what that means, but in some places it means ending up as Beef Wellington.
* * *
Freak
I am tending to a few matters of what might be called administration. My cover is a powerful man, and one of the officers on the ship is trying to network with me. This is one of the tricks we Psyons have up our sleeves, but it does occasionally backfire.
“Yes, of course, I will give your regards to the Economic Imperium,” I am saying, as suddenly a bell starts to chime in a way that seems rather concerned.
The officer checks the notification on his device, then lets out a long sigh.
“Sorry, sir. I’ve just gotten word that there’s a human loose on the ship. We don’t allow humans to be unsupervised on board. They have a nasty habit of getting into absolutely everything.”
I know precisely what human they are talking about. My pet has almost certainly left her quarters. I suppose I didn’t expressly tell her not to. I don’t think it would have mattered if I did. At this early stage, I have to be in close contact to have anything like control over her.
The captain is not exaggerating the response. As we step out of his quarters, I find that the ship has been mobilized with several teams of crew working systematically to detain my little creature. It is a matter of minutes before they have her in hand, having chased her through the halls and brought her down like a wild animal, using a large, soft net.