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I feel a little bad for her. It’s hard when everyone expects you to just understand what’s going on and you have no clue. I smile in Rhonda’s direction. “Totally okay. I can see how you’d make that mistake. Can I show you around the ship at least?”
“I should love that,” Rhonda says, a tiny smile on her face. Then she gestures at the ramp. “But…my things?”
“I’ll get them,” Jamef says, his voice low and with an unpleasant edge. He squeezes my shoulders again and then reaches up to caress my cheek. “You’re staying on board, sweetheart?”
“Absolutely. I’d be crazy to leave.” I tilt my head into his touch, and I’m rewarded with a quick kiss on the temple before he strides down the ramp, heading after Rhonda’s luggage. I watch as he leaves, his tail twitching in an extremely annoyed way. Hm. Both him and Bethiah don’t seem very happy with Rhonda on board. Something tells me to be cautious around her.
I turn back toward our guest, only to find that she’s watching me with a scrutinizing gaze. “Your captain is a very interesting male.”
“I wouldn’t call him captain around Bethiah. She won’t like that much.”
“But he’s in charge, is he not?”
Is he? Jamef does spend a lot of time on the bridge, and Bethiah seems happy to let him, but I don’t know. “The ship is his, I suppose.”
“I see.” She appears to absorb this information and then smiles at me. “Mesakkah can be so complicated sometimes, can’t they?”
I chuckle. She’s not wrong. Sometimes I don’t know whether I’m coming or going when Bethiah is involved. “I let them lead and I follow. It’s easiest that way.”
“It is their universe,” Rhonda muses. “They’ve made that quite clear to us humans. Well, then. Show me around?”
Eighty-One
DORA
“These are the guest quarters?” Rhonda takes one look around the new room and gives me a look of horror. “Where’s the en suite?”
“You mean the lavatory?” I gesture behind me. “Down the hall.”
Her eyes widen. “I see. I guess I have no choice but to rough it until my beloved is found. But this explains why your skin is so chapped, at least.”
I’m chapped? I touch my cheek, concerned.
Rhonda gives me an apologetic look, moving to my side. She takes my hand in hers, and then grimaces. “Calluses too? My dear, no one’s looking out for you. Our only value as humans is in our appearances and our eager personalities.” She bites her lip, shaking her head. “You must take care of yourself. I’m not saying this to be cruel. I’m saying this because you’re just like me, and I had to learn the hard way. A beautiful human is a safe human.”
Oh. I give her a timid smile, still feeling awkward and ugly and disheveled in her perfect presence. “Most of the humans I’ve met are new to this end of space. No one’s given me advice before.”
She smiles at me, and it manages to somehow be tired and understanding at the same time. Rhonda smooths a piece of my hair back from my face. “I’ve been out here far too long, I think. I’ve learned how to be safe, but it’s still a difficult existence at times. Now…you’re with the cyborg? The fearsome one? He should make you wear a collar so his ownership is clearly established and no one gets the wrong idea.”
“Oh, I’m with both Jamef and Bethiah.”
Rhonda blinks, clearly surprised. She recovers quickly and beams at me, squeezing my hands once more. “That’s extremely clever. Hedging your bets in case one of them runs off or grows tired of you. I should have thought of the same.” She winks at me. “I might steal that from your playbook. Now…help me unpack?”
Playbook? I don’t have a playbook, but maybe it’s something I should know. Maybe it’s a piece of my memories missing due to being cloned. I keep quiet, just in case.
Rhonda moves to a small bag and pulls out an enameled square container. She pops it open and sticks a long, slender tube between her lips. The end flares blue with an electronic light, and then she blows out a puff of smoke and holds it between her fingers. “So tell me more about this place. About your owners. Did they buy you at a station? Together?” She gestures at one of the many bags on her bed. “Unpack that one, please, but mind the silks with those rough hands.”
Well, I did offer to show her around. I suppose I could help her unpack. I pull a few of her pretty dresses out, far more ornate and glorious than anything I acquired at Kaatir’s moon base. Each dress flows like water, rippling over my hands, and tiny crystals flash, embedded in the collars and sleeves. These are gorgeous, and I inwardly shrivel when my rougher hands catch on a bit of the fabric. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”
