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My mind was racing a mile a minute, coming up with all sorts of terrifying outcomes but I refused to let the Governor know just how scared I was.
He said, “If anything happens—”
“Hit the emergency button,” I said. “I know, I know.”
“Show me how you’ll do it,” he commanded.
I rolled my eyes.
He’d made me practice at least a dozen times before I stepped off the ship.
What did he think I was?
A chimp?
But I did as he asked and slapped my hand on the slight bulge on the bottom of my communicator strapped to my forearm.
He turned to look back at his squad.
The one with the scraggly white beard thrust his arm in the air in what I assumed was the Chi equivalent of a thumbs up.
Then the Governor said:
“If they search you and find the emergency button—”
“Then I’m to stamp my heel three times to activate theotheremergency button you put in my shoe. By the way, it’s really uncomfortable. I’m going to get bunions for sure.”
“Bunions?”
I shook my head.
Why was I not surprised his species didn’t suffer from them? “It doesn’t matter.”
He thought for a moment before frowning so hard you could mistake his forehead for a Clingon’s. “Maybe I should give you one more emergency button just in case—”
I stamped my foot. “I swear, if you give me any more tools, I’m going to look like Iron Man.”
“Iron… who?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“But maybe—”
“No more!” I snapped, stamping my foot again.
“One more time,” he said.
“One more time for what?”
“To test the emergency button in your shoe.”
I growled, realizing I should have known it was all part of some ploy to check the emergency buttonyet again.
“I’m going to be okay,” I told him.
He stared at me meaningfully.
“All right!” I said. “Fine!”
