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A moment later, the hoodie was there. I snatched it up and put it on.
“And pants,” I said. “Jeans. Faded.”
It spat those out too and I put them on.
“I cannot believe you didn’t mention this earlier,” I said.
“Why?” he said. “I was enjoying looking at you.”
I pressed my lips together in agitation and gave him the finger.
“Computer,” I said. “Pants for a male Titan. And a t-shirt.”
The machine produced them. A pair of black pants like an office worker might wear and a plain white t-shirt. Unless I specified what I wanted, the machine would always give me a generic version of the item.
I tossed him the clothes.
“Put them on,” I said.
“I’m eating,” he said.
“So put them on and then eat.”
Chax growled.
“Are all human females so bossy?” he said.
I jabbed him on the chest.
“You don’t know what bossy is, Mister,” I said.
Our eyes met.
I’d intended for it to sound sinister and scary but when we looked at each other, with him still half-naked, my mouth turned dry.
I stepped back and looked away.
“Anyway,” I said. “Eat up. And dress. We’ve got work to do.”
We? Since when did this become “we”? From the moment he appeared in this room. For better or worse, we were stuck together.
I tucked the fork up my sleeve. I’d attack him with it if he tried anything. It was a big step up from the red pen.
“What work?” he said.
“We’re getting out of here.”
“There’s no door.”
“Then we’ll make one with our handy little buddy the replicator machine.”
I asked the replicator to produce a door but nothing happened.
“It can only make things that can fit inside the machine,” Chax said.
“Oh,” I said. “Well, that’s not very advanced, is it?”
I turned back to the machine.
