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)
She turns and gives me a sharp look. "I thought you said you couldn't bake?"
"I can't." I give her a crumb-covered smile. "But you can teach me."
Simone shakes her head. "Maybe you could start your own business. What did you do on Earth?"
"Event planning for a garden venue," I say, woeful. It had been so fun, too. "Weddings and anniversaries and parties. So many people to talk to."
"Hmm, I don't know what that would transfer over to here. Maybe you need a roommate." She adjusts a particularly ugly cookie on the tray, lining it up with the others. "Or a pet."
I don't know about the roommate part. I mean, I think I would love it, but I suspect my fellow refugees would not. It's hard enough to get someone to just hang out. I think we're all still struggling to adjust on some level. Even now, I see two women hurrying down the street as if being out in the open and enjoying the day is somehow wrong and an alien will snatch them up and punish them.
(Again, valid.)
But a pet...
A pet might work. I had a cat when I was a kid, a gorgeous calico that snuggled with me in bed every night and followed me around. I loved that cat, and I'd been devastated when she'd passed. I'd always felt like we were a team, me and that cat, and I picture having a cat at my quiet homestead. I picture having someone howling at me to feed them, and butting a head against my hand when wanting pets. I picture snuggling under the blankets with a happy, purring cat at my feet and being able to sleep, content, because I'm not alone and drowning in the unending silence.
"Do you know where I might get a cat?" I ask.
Simone pauses. "I don't think they're native. But I might know some people that could help out."
Perfect.
CHAPTER
TWO
MAEVE
Getting something as simple as a pet takes many weeks.
The logistics of it are the tricky part. Sure, Simone knows a guy. But the guy isn't available for a while, and then when I meet with the a'ani stranger, he demands payment upfront in unmarked credits. I have to take my credits into the Custodial office and come up with a reasonable explanation as to why I need unmarked credits, because they're worried I'm getting involved with bad people.
I end up not being able to get the unmarked credits, and Port doesn't have a bank. I try explaining that it doesn't matter what I spend my money on. That it's my savings, and I can crush the credits into powder and snort them like cocaine if I want to because I'm an adult—but the Port custodians won't have it.
So I have to explain the situation to Simone's a'ani friend.
"And so you see," I wrap up after a several-minute-long spiel involving hand gestures, a few jokes that don't land, and a lot of explaining of human words. "No matter what I do, the custodians aren't going to let me have my credits unmarked. I can have my credits. I can light them on fire and cast the ashes into the wind and they won't care. Not that I would do that, because money is money. I know the importance of money. But you ask for one little thing to be unmarked and suddenly they look at you like you've been lighting kittens on fire."
"Mm."
"Not that I would light a kitten on fire. It's a human expression of something terrible and I probably should have picked something better to compare it to, but that's the only thing that came to mind." I chuckle awkwardly. "You understand, right?"
"Mm." He glances at his datapad.
"Anyhow, I really appreciate all the trouble you went to in order to work with me. I talk to Simone every day and—"
"It's fine," Kazex says, interrupting. He's a little intimidating looking with his bright red skin and dark eyes and the tattoos, so even when he says “it's fine” it feels like it isn't. He also looks incredibly impatient at my explanation, as if I'm talking too much. I get that a lot. "But you're in luck."
"I am?" I'm not feeling very lucky.
He nods. "Friend of mine is opening a cantina here in Port."
I don't see what that has to do with me. "O-kaaaay? Would you mind elaborating a bit?"
"We can exchange your credits for you. Get you some unmarked ones. And then we'll get the payment over to Zebah. She's got the right connections." He nods as if it's all decided and puts his hand out.
And because I'm a bit of a chicken and I've come this far, I put the credits in his hand. Even if he's robbing me at this point, what can I do? Complain to the custodians? They'll lecture me like some sort of army of big blue Father Figures, and while some people might find that hot, I most definitely do not.