Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
T’zaren drew himself up stiffly.
“I am a Stri’vor Monstrum—not a Fur’thian Brain Eater,” he growled.
“I didn’t mean that literally!” Lucy exclaimed. She frowned. “And are you telling me there’s a species in the universe where they eat each other’s brains?”
“The female Fur’thian cracks open her mate’s skull and consumes his brains at the culmination of mating,” T’zaren explained. “It’s not a very enviable fate.” He looked curiously at Lucy’s outstretched hand. “Why are you reaching for me like that?”
“I’m trying to get you to shake hands with me, of course!” she exclaimed and then had a sudden realization. Sure, most everyone on Earth shook hands, but she was talking to a man from a whole different planet—hell, a whole different universe. “I, uh, guess that’s not a thing Monstrum Warriors do?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.
T’zaren shook his head.
“No. We may offer a warrior’s clasp, but that is different.’”
“Okay, well on Earth shaking hands is a sign of friendship,” Lucy explained. “Often a handshake is used to seal a deal or as a gesture of cooperation.”
“Well…all right. As a gesture of cooperation, then.” Reluctantly, she thought, he finally enfolded her hand in his much larger one. As they touched she saw him stiffen but he held her hand without dropping it and looked into her eyes. “Does this make you happy?” he asked.
“What would make me happy is if you’d stop acting like a big, mean Grumpy-pants,” Lucy said, frowning. “But an agreement to cooperate and do whatever we have to in order to get the dimriel is better than nothing I suppose.”
T’zaren looked down at his tight leather trousers in apparent confusion.
“My clothing is incapable of having emotions. Why would you call me ‘Mr. Grumpy-pants,’ Dr. Lucille?”
Lucy sighed.
“It’s just a saying. And you can just call me ‘Lucy,’ you know. I appreciate it when Chief Commander Rarev calls me by my title but you and I are going to be working closely together so you don’t have to be so formal.”
T’zaren seemed to consider this. Finally, he shook his head.
“I don’t think so. Shortening your given name is an insult in my culture. I will call you ‘Lucille’ when we are alone together and Dom’mesque when we are dealing with Twa’linda of the Two Faces.”
“That’s a deal,” Lucy said, smiling at him. “See? Now we’re getting somewhere!”
T’zaren frowned and looked down at their hands, which were still clasped between the seats.
“Ah…how long does this ‘shaking of the hands’ last, anyway? I’m going to need to get back to piloting soon.”
“Oh, it’s usually only a few seconds long,” Lucy admitted. She started to slide her hand out of his and was surprised when his grip tightened, holding her in place. “T’zaren?” she asked, frowning up at him in confusion.
He leaned forward, his golden eyes intent.
“I’ll play my part and you play yours,” he said and his voice had gone hoarse and low. “But that’s all they are—just parts. None of this is real and it never will be!”
“Okay, okay,” Lucy said, frowning. “Tell me you’re afraid of commitment without telling me you’re afraid of commitment, why don’t you?”
“What?” T’zaren frowned in apparent confusion.
“Nothing. I’m just saying don’t worry—I’m not looking to make this playacting we’re doing real in any way,” Lucy told him. “So just keep your pants on.”
He looked down at his trousers again and nodded briefly.
“I will unless you tell me to take them off,” he said, finally releasing her hand.
It was such an odd statement that Lucy was at a loss for a reply. Before she could think of anything to say, a buzzing sound came from the control console and a strange voice spoke in an alien language. Thanks to the shot of Translation Bacteria she’d been given before she left the Monstrum Mother Ship, Lucy was able to understand it perfectly.
“Unidentified ship, please state your business on B’ron Three,” it said.
“We are here to do business with Lady Twa’linda of the Two Faces,” T’zaren answered at once. “My Dom’mesque, Dr. Lucille Heartwood, is a prominent businesswoman from the planet Earth who seeks an audience with her.”
There was a moment of silence and then the voice spoke again.
“Hold for a moment to speak with Lady Twa’linda,” it said. “She screens all new visitors herself before allowing anyone to land in her dominion.”
There was another long moment of silence in which Lucy felt her throat grow dry. She hadn’t expected to have an “audience” with their prospective business partner quite so soon. Still, she could do this, she told herself. She had been in drama all through high school and college and she was used to getting up and lecturing in front of auditoriums full of students—she could handle one two-faced alien.
“You had better do the talking this time,” T’zaren murmured. “Twa’linda will expect it.”
“No problem.” Lucy lifted her chin. “I was in drama all through school—just follow my lead.”