Total pages in book: 175
Estimated words: 166095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 830(@200wpm)___ 664(@250wpm)___ 554(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 166095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 830(@200wpm)___ 664(@250wpm)___ 554(@300wpm)
The first thought I have is that she’s crazy.
The second one is hurt, because she’s still trying to get rid of me.
Because it’s clearly not about what’s best for me in this scenario. What’s best for me is keeping all of my own freaking limbs. But Bethiah wants to tear me apart and re-make me into some kind of terminator like the blue alien standing in front of us, frowning. I guess she wants me to be an unstoppable machine so she doesn’t have to bother with me anymore.
This woman is seriously starting to wound me.
The half-metal alien moves towards me, his face forbidding. He’s the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen, with a metal jaw and hard, scarred eyes. He creaks when he moves, the entire effect menacing as he looms over me. “So what were you thinking?” he asks in a cold voice. “Maybe just remove one perfectly good hand and replace it with a blaster?”
“I mean, we could start there,” Bethiah replies. “You’re the master, Zakoar.”
“Don’t I get a say in this?” I repeat.
“Why not both hands as blasters?” the male says caustically. “Maybe her legs, too. She can just fall to the ground when she’s in danger and just start shooting.”
“You don’t think that would be overly dramatic?” Bethiah tilts her head, studying me. “It might be difficult for her to use the lavatory if she’s nothing but blasters on all limbs. And she won’t be able to reload.” She taps her chin and then brightens. “Unless we add in some extra limbs. How much does that sort of thing run?”
He moves closer to me and touches my cloak, giving me a long look in the face. Then, he turns to Bethiah. “How much?”
“Do I want done? I came to you for ideas.” She crosses her arms over her chest and tilts her head, her braids swinging back. “Rest assured I can pay.” She pauses. “This time, anyhow. But I brought her here so you could tell me what options we’re looking at.”
Zakoar shakes his head again. “I meant how much would you ask for her? I’ll buy her off you.”
Bethiah bristles. She looks highly offended, and moves to stand in front of me, pushing between myself and the metallic mesakkah. In the process, she knocks something hollow off a shelf and it makes a loud sound as it hits the floor, but no one seems to notice but me. Zakoar and Bethiah glare at each other. “Kef off,” Bethiah declares, and her tone is ugly. “You don’t need another human to kef. This one is mine.”
“To kef?” He gives her a knowing look.
“No,” she grits out, and her tail lashes so hard that it knocks another canister off the shelf. Hastily, I try to grab it before it clatters to the floor. “I’m keeping her safe.”
“This is how you keep her safe? By mutilating her?”
“You’re right, I should just tattoo my name across her throat,” Bethiah says, her voice full of sarcasm. “I hear that’s effective.”
Tattoo my throat? “Um…?”
They don’t seem to notice me. They’re too busy glaring at each other. “Is that a slam against my mate?” Zakoar asks, voice deadly. “Think carefully before you answer. Because I’ll tolerate a lot, but I won’t tolerate you being unpleasant to Tessa.”
Bethiah’s hands go to her hips. “You know I like Tessa. I’m just saying I can’t tattoo her as mine. She’s not mine.”
“But you won’t sell her. You’ll just fill her full of metal and what, send her on her merry way in the universe? Is that the big plan?”
“I’m trying to give her tools to help her out! You make it sound like a bad thing!”
They’re still talking as if I’m not here. I sidle away from Bethiah, the canister in my hands. I set it carefully on the counter closest to me and edge away. I’m not leaving the store. I just…don’t want to hear what’s decided. Sold to the metal guy or filled with metal, it’s clear no one’s out for my best interests. I should have guessed that Bethiah wouldn’t be outfitting her ship to make it more comfortable for me. That would be a permanent sort of thing, and it’s clear she’s not a fan of that.
I glance over at the far end of the shop, where the assistant was sitting, but he’s gone. I’m guessing he made himself scarce the moment he heard them start to argue. It’s not a bad idea. I wish I could do the same, but I know better than to go wandering around the dangerous station alone. So I wander through the store as Bethiah squabbles with the metal guy—Zakoar—about “enhancements” that I’m not interested in or even want. I guess it’s good that she’s not interested in selling me.
I…guess?
I move between the crowded shelves full of rusting metal and a variety of bits that look exceedingly unfamiliar to me. I turn the corner, and as I do, I realize that the store isn’t as empty as I thought. That there’s someone here, crouched behind one of the shelves, and he’s got a long cloak over his body. He leans forward, and I catch a glimpse of a red, cybernetic eye before he lifts a hand, a canister in his grip.