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"You can ask me anything, mistress, but my ability to answer is limited by my programming."
"I understand. I'm curious if Bob is short for Robert or whether it has another meaning."
"I do not know, mistress. That is the name I was given by my creators."
Dagor
Sprawled on a lounger with his back to the bar, Dagor stifled a chuckle. The exchange between the woman named Frankie and the robot named Bob was most amusing, but he didn't wish to startle her.
The poor woman had enough of a scare when Bob popped up from behind the bar, and her heartbeat was only now returning to normal.
She hadn't noticed him, which was how he preferred things to remain.
He hadn't come up here to socialize. He'd wanted to drink alone and ponder his uninspiring future. However, discovering Bob had perked him up a little, giving him food for thought.
The robot was much more advanced than anything he'd seen humans produce, and he suspected that it had been built by the immortals. Their technological know-how in cybertronics seemed superior, and although it was primitive compared to Anumati's, it was still more than he knew. He was very much interested in learning from them.
Since it looked like Dagor's dreams of saving up enough credits to attend one of Anumati's engineering schools were not going to materialize for the next millennium, or maybe ever, he should learn what he could from the immortals and perhaps even work with them to further develop their technology.
Besides, if he was honest with himself, his chances of passing the entry exams were slim, even if he could return as planned and have enough to pay for the tuition. The elite ensured commoners did not have access to the schools that prepared the best for higher education.
Supposedly, Anumati was a democracy, and no god was barred from achieving the highest station regardless of who their parents were. Still, in reality, the elite was an impenetrable clique of those with royal blood and old riches.
The best a commoner could hope for was one of the lower-tier schools that prepared workers for lower-tier positions.
"Oh, I didn't see you there." The woman startled him. "Do you mind if I sit here?"
The voice belonged to Bob's only customer, Frankie, but with the blazing sun behind her blinding Dagor, all he could see was a dark silhouette. Shielding his eyes with his hand and squinting, he tried to see more than the outline of her petite body, but the sun's glare made it nearly impossible.
Not that he cared what she looked like. He hadn't come up here to flirt, and she was encroaching on his private time.
"You can sit anywhere you want. This is not my ship."
There were at least thirty other loungers, and she could have chosen to sit anywhere else on the deck.
Why the hell did she have to sit next to him and disturb his peace?
Well, that was obvious.
Human females found his godly features appealing and weren't bashful about approaching him, Negal, and Aru. He could usually deter them with a scowl, but a squint was not a scowl, and it was hard to do anything else with the damn sunshine blinding him.
He should have brought his sunglasses, but he'd forgotten.
"Someone is grumpy," she murmured as she walked away.
Dagor felt like an ass, and when she sat down on the last lounger in the row, he sighed. "I'm sorry if I offended you. It wasn't my intention."
"I get it. You just want to be left alone." She lifted her drink in a salute, took a sip, and reclined while crossing her legs.
Maybe he'd been mistaken, and she hadn't planned on flirting with him after all. Even squinting, he still couldn't see her clearly, but he could tell that she had shapely legs and wore shoes with enormous square heels.
How could she even walk in those things?
Was she really that tiny?
Curiosity getting the better of him, he pushed to his feet and walked over to her.
Now that he had his back to the sun, he finally got to see the little pixie, and she was lovelier than he'd expected. She had a pert little nose, pouty lips painted with bright lipstick, and a compact figure that still had all the required feminine curves.
