Total pages in book: 182
Estimated words: 171288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 856(@200wpm)___ 685(@250wpm)___ 571(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 171288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 856(@200wpm)___ 685(@250wpm)___ 571(@300wpm)
“Yes, I do.” Granny Two-two nodded stubbornly. “That’s genuine brantha hair, that is,” she said, pointing at the toupee Penny was still clutching. “That’s quality! They don’t make ‘em anymore on account of those greedy Gatlings hunting all the brantha to death. So even if Grunge doesn’t want to wear it, he can sell it—see?”
“See? See?” squeaked her second head, blinking rapidly.
“I see.” Penny nodded. “Thank you, Granny Two-two—for everything you’ve done for me,” she added. Trying to trade a used toupee for an interstellar call still seemed like a doubtful proposition, but it was a hell of a lot better than trying to sell her body to some alien man to earn the money. Clearly the old lady had done the best she could for her and Penny was truly grateful.
Impulsively, she leaned down and put her arms around the little old lady.
“Thank you,” she said again. “I don’t know where I’d be without you!”
“You’d be digesting in the belly of that Keeper, that’s where.” The old lady patted her on the back. “Go on with you now, dearie. Granny Two-two has more treasure mining to do.”
“Go on! Go on!” shrieked the second head and bit Penny on the earlobe—hard.
“Ouch!” Penny gasped and jerked away, her hand flying to her hurt ear.
“Ah, sorry, dearie. Shoulda warned you. My twin—she bites.” Granny Two-two swatted at the blinking second head, which still had a few strands of Penny’s hair caught in its sharp little teeth.
“I see.” Penny took her fingers away from her ear and saw a smear of blood on them. Great, now she was wounded and she had no idea if Granny Two-two’s second head had any kind of disease she ought to be worried about. What if she got some kind of space-rabies from that awful little thing?
She wondered if she ought to ask about it, but couldn’t think how to do it without being rude. What would she say? Excuse me, Granny Two-two, but has your second head had all her shots?
Before she could muster the nerve to ask if she ought to be worried, the old lady took her leave.
“Well, now, I’ve got to go, so I do.” Granny Two-two nodded at her. “Best of luck to you, dearie. I’m mortal ‘fraid you’ll need it.”
“Need it! Need it!” screeched her second head and then the two of them—three, Penny supposed, counting the quick-loris—disappeared into the crowded marketplace and were gone.
Twelve
“Lucky Lounge…Lucky Lounge…” Penny muttered to herself as she made her way carefully through the crowd. She was keeping to the outskirts of the market, as much as possible, trying not to draw attention to herself.
Thanks to the translation bacteria she’d been given back on the Mother Ship, she could understand all the strange, alien languages being spoken around her and it reassured her that she didn’t hear anyone talking about humanoid trafficking or finding new girls to abduct.
Though of course, I doubt they’d talk about that right out in the open, Penny thought to herself. Probably they’d go someplace private to talk about illegal activities. Someplace like that.
Her eyes had fallen on a seedy-looking place on the right side of the market, just past the last stall. Red light was pulsing inside its low entrance and she could hear a soft, hypnotic drumming sound mixed with the shouts of bar patrons calling for drinks. A strong whiff of liquor and some kind of sour, skunky smoke drifted out to assault her nostrils.
Penny wrinkled her nose.
Glad I don’t have to go in th—
Her thought was cut off in the middle by the sight of a small sign posted beside the entrance.
Lucky Lounge…Come on in! the sign proclaimed.
Penny stared at it in disbelief.
Well, crap. It seemed she would have to go in after all.
It was definitely the kind of place she would have avoided at all costs back home on Earth. But here in the Hell’s Gate Spaceport, she had no choice—going into the Lucky Lounge was her only ticket home. So she’d better suck it up and get going.
Penny lifted her chin.
Well, here goes nothing!
Taking a deep breath and clutching the second-hand toupee tightly to her chest, she entered the dim bar.
Thirteen
She stopped just inside the doorway, trying to get used to the ambiance. Once her eyes got used to the reddish glow of the lights, she began to look around. The place was packed both with males of every possible alien variation, and also females, most of whom were dressed provocatively.
One woman, sitting on a hovering barstool pulled up to the long, curving bar, had large dark eyes as big as doorknobs. She was wearing a low-cut purple gown and flirting with a male who was sipping something that fizzed and smoked.
Another woman appeared to have three breasts—all of which were larger than Penny’s two put together. Her bulbous mounds were barely contained by a tiny pink tank-top that matched her hair. She was rubbing all three of them suggestively against the chest of a man with prominent brow ridges and tiny eyes. Penny thought he looked like a Neanderthal.