Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22109 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 111(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22109 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 111(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
I get dressed and his message comes back when I return to the living room. “You know I’m game for whatever. Can’t talk now, though. Gotta finish this platform. See you tonight.”
Okay, good. I smell my pulse points but I can no longer scent the perfume so I head back to the bathroom to add another layer. Just in case.
I want tonight to be lovely. Special. Fun.
Eight
HRRRUSEK
“What do you mean, we’re pulling out early?”
The foreman doesn’t look up when I approach him. He ticks something off on his data-pad and makes a notation. “I mean, we’re pulling out early. The job is more or less completed. We have two ramps to build and then everything is done and ready for mechanical to come and rig it with lighting.”
Hot panic races through me. I rub my jaw, tail lashing, and try to think straight. This job was supposed to go on for another two months. I thought I’d have plenty of time with Chelsea, enough to get my addiction to her out of my system. That we’d be sick of each other’s company at that point and glad to head off. We’d part as friends and I’d remember my time with her with fondness.
That was the initial plan, of course.
Nothing seems to be going to plan, though. We’re bailing out on this job early—which I haven’t brought up to my human female—and to make matters worse, I’m in love with her. She’s going to be fine with getting rid of me and I’m going to be devastated.
“Maybe-maybe we can do the rigging,” I tell my boss. “I’ve worked on lighting in the past.” I don’t want to seem too eager or else he’ll think something is up, so I shrug. “Job’s a job, right? And we’re already here.”
The foreman looks at me as if he’s tasting something foul. “We’ve been on this backwater for months already and you want to stay longer?”
I cross my arms over my chest and scuff one of my boots. “I mean…I don’t hate the fresh air.” And there’s a female I’m dating and I desperately want to stay for as long as possible.
“Good.” He goes back to tapping on his data pad. “Our next job is open air, too. Some lordling wants a port built on his private planet, right in the middle of a jungle. Should be fun. And by fun, I mean keffing miserable. Place is apparently crawling with serpents and all kinds of poisonous beasts. But it’ll be fresh air, just like you want.”
I ignore his sneer, my mind racing. I knew we’d have to leave this job soon enough. This place is a human haven and that means you have to jump through a lot of hoops in order to be able to stay. Someone like me would need steady work to get the proper clearances for a long-term stay on Risda III, and other than the job we’re wrapping up, there’s not a lot of call for a large-scale welder. Most of our jobs are in space, expanding on docks and spaceports, or creating the framework for a future space station. When we’re planetside, it’s usually dangerous sorts of work, the kinds of things most engineering teams won’t take because of insurance reasons. The hazard pay makes up for any worry…usually. But today it just exhausts me.
Maybe I need to think more like Chelsea. I need to just embrace whatever comes my way and if it kills me, it kills me. No sense in worrying about it. And if I leave here and she’s done with me? Don’t really care how dangerous the job gets.
I wonder if Jrrru knows that we’re leaving? Did the foreman tell him and he hid it from me? Jrrru loves this job. Loves working with me at his side. It’s always been just the two of us in this universe, and he won’t leave this job. Kef, he’s the one that got us this job.
He’d never stay on Risda.
Who am I kidding anyhow? I’ve been at Chelsea’s every night for the past month. We’ve talked about any number of things, but never once have we discussed “us” or a future. That tells me plenty right there.
There is no “us.” We have no future together. All I can do is enjoy the present.
I want to punch something in frustration, but there’s nothing I can do. Tail thrashing behind me with annoyance, I give my boss a stiff nod. “When do we leave?”
“Day after tomorrow.”
I guess that gives me enough time to say my goodbyes to her properly.
I show up to Chelsea’s homestead with my rented air-sled at the usual time. I’ve brought her a present from the general store—a local jam that she likes—because I like her smile when I show up with gifts. Plus, what’s the point in earning credits if I can’t spend them on a pretty female? But my chest feels hollow and I sit in the sled, trying to wrap my mind around the fact that this is my last night with her.