Her only response was a soft, content hum.
A short while later, sensing that he was still there, she asked, “What are you thinking about, Khar?”
“You will see.”
He left briefly and returned just as quietly.
Lily had nearly drifted off when the clink of ice pulled her back. She opened her eyes to find Khar settled into the lounger beside hers. Two chilled drinks waited on the small table between them.
He had shed his uniform.
A white towel lay across his hips, arranged with deliberate care. It concealed what it needed to conceal while the stark contrast between white fabric and near-black skin emphasized everything else.
He had managed to suppress the most obvious signs of his interest. Imagining Lily rejecting him outright had helped.
“Khar,” she said, squinting at him. “Are you done already?”
“No,” he replied calmly. “Your activity seemed more worthwhile.”
“Vegrun will not be pleased if his upgrades are not finished before our next flight.”
“Vegrun enjoys parading two rare species in front of his guests and knowing we do not speak to the press about his indulgences. As long as we perform adequately, which Vitro practically guarantees, he will be satisfied. Accept it, Lily. We are display pieces. Now drink your cocktail and enjoy the light.”
She stretched lazily and settled back down.
“It really is a comfortable job.”
Khar made a sound of agreement and closed his eyes.
Two cycles later, they departed.
This time Vegrun arrived accompanied by a three-headed goror female whom Lily privately dubbed Lady Crocodile. Their destination was a heavily regulated world where no sapient species had evolved, but whose ecosystem was astonishingly diverse. It held protected status and was accessible only to researchers.
And to the obscenely wealthy who paid the researchers.
Khar and Lily were flawless. Polite. Charming. Professional.
Vegrun introduced his companion in his usual meandering fashion before ushering her toward his private suite.
“Come, Iroxella. Let me show you my ship more closely.”
Once they were out of earshot, Lily leaned toward Khar.
“Did he not say exactly that to the last one?”
Khar considered, then nodded with solemn certainty.
“Yes. That is confirmed. It is coded language for imminent sex.”
Lily matched his tone.
“No tentacle left dry.”
They found the phrase so amusing that they spent the rest of the journey trying to slip variations of it into conversation without being obvious. Extra points if they managed most of the sentence.
Vegrun even sought them out personally during the trip, a rare occurrence. After rattling off new demands meant to cater to his latest fascination, Khar politely asked about a former companion.
“Of course, sir, we will take care of everything. If I may ask, what became of Silomarila? We had grown rather fond of her. It was a pleasure showing her the ship.”
