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That was the initial plan, of course.
Nothingseems to be going to plan, though. We’re bailing out on this job early—which I haven’t brought up to my human female—and to make matters worse, I’m in love with her. She’s going to be fine with getting rid of me and I’m going to be devastated.
“Maybe-maybe we can do the rigging,” I tell my boss. “I’ve worked on lighting in the past.” I don’t want to seem too eager or else he’ll think something is up, so I shrug. “Job’s a job, right? And we’re already here.”
The foreman looks at me as if he’s tasting something foul. “We’ve been on this backwater for months already and you want to stay longer?”
I cross my arms over my chest and scuff one of my boots. “I mean…I don’t hate the fresh air.” And there’s a female I’m dating and I desperately want to stay for as long as possible.
“Good.” He goes back to tapping on his data pad. “Our next job is open air, too. Some lordling wants a port built on his private planet, right in the middle of a jungle. Should be fun. And by fun, I mean keffing miserable. Place is apparently crawling with serpents and all kinds of poisonous beasts. But it’ll be fresh air, just like you want.”
I ignore his sneer, my mind racing. I knew we’d have to leave this job soon enough. This place is a human haven and that means you have to jump through a lot of hoops in order to be able to stay. Someone like me would need steady work to get the proper clearances for a long-term stay on Risda III, and other than the job we’re wrapping up, there’s not a lot of call for a large-scale welder. Most of our jobs are in space, expanding on docks and spaceports, or creating the framework for a future space station. When we’re planetside, it’s usually dangerous sorts of work, the kinds of things most engineering teams won’t take because of insurance reasons. The hazard pay makes up for any worry…usually. But today it just exhausts me.
Maybe I need to think more like Chelsea. I need to just embrace whatever comes my way and if it kills me, it kills me. No sense in worrying about it. And if I leave here and she’s done with me? Don’t really care how dangerous the job gets.
I wonder if Jrrru knows that we’re leaving? Did the foreman tell him and he hid it from me? Jrrru loves this job. Loves working with me at his side. It’s always been just the two of us in this universe, and he won’t leave this job. Kef, he’s the one that got us this job.
He’d never stay on Risda.
Who am I kidding anyhow? I’ve been at Chelsea’s every night for the past month. We’ve talked about any number of things, but never once have we discussed “us” or a future. That tells me plenty right there.
There is no “us.” We have no future together. All I can do is enjoy the present.
I want to punch something in frustration, but there’s nothing I can do. Tail thrashing behind me with annoyance, I give my boss a stiff nod. “When do we leave?”
“Day after tomorrow.”
I guess that gives me enough time to say my goodbyes to her properly.
* * *
I showup to Chelsea’s homestead with my rented air-sled at the usual time. I’ve brought her a present from the general store—a local jam that she likes—because I like her smile when I show up with gifts. Plus, what’s the point in earning credits if I can’t spend them on a pretty female? But my chest feels hollow and I sit in the sled, trying to wrap my mind around the fact that this is my last night with her.
The drive was too long and too short, both. As if the very universe is taunting me, the weather is lovely. There’s a gentle breeze rustling the leaves of the crops, and I can hear the snuffling of the meat-stock inside the barn. Freshly turned dirt scents the air, along with the warmer scent of something delicious.
There’s also a hint of…something else. Something darker.
Something that makes my cock twitch in acknowledgment.
I flare my nostrils, trying to pick out the scent. I’m unfamiliar with it, but it makes me think of Chelsea, and mating, and therefore I don’t hate it. She mentioned she had a new thing for us to try out. Maybe this is what I’m scenting.
My sweet Chelsea, always eager and willing in bed. I love her adventurous, eager spirit almost as much as I love her bright smile and endless laughter. What am I going to do without her? How am I going to spend my nights alone after being with her?
The endless stretch of my life without Chelsea yawns before me, colorless and dull.
I scrub at my face with my hand, keeping my claws retracted. I need to stop moping. Chelsea’s made it quite clear that she’s never been interested in anything more than a bit of fun, and I’m not going to push her for more.
I’ve got to keep it together. For now. We’ll have our dinner, enjoy our evening, and then I’ll break the news to her. Maybe we’ll hug and kiss before I leave. Maybe she’ll let me stay tonight, one last time. If not, I’ll understand. She might want a clean break of things.
The thought feels as if it will break something insideme.
Making my way to her front door, I clutch the jam jar in my hand so tightly I fear it will break. Will Chelsea be happy that I’m leaving? Relieved? Or will she actually miss me? She won’t, I suspect, because she chooses to live every day without fear, and regret seems like an emotion she’d shuck away as well.
The door opens.
Chelsea smiles at me, wearing her favorite tunic that shows off her magnificent cleavage. Her hair is pulled up in a tail at the crown of her head, and she speaks, but I can’t hear anything.
The roar of blood in my ears is drowning out everything.
