Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 34527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 173(@200wpm)___ 138(@250wpm)___ 115(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 173(@200wpm)___ 138(@250wpm)___ 115(@300wpm)
“We are not company,” I tell her slyly. “We are interlopers. You can treat us with as much scorn as you like. Serve the worst tea. Bring out the stale noodles. We deserve it all.”
She manages a smile again and then steps aside so we can enter.
The stink inside her dwelling is that of old sweat, dust, and food gone bad. I ignore it, because I recognize that this is not something she can help. Her sadness is eating her alive, and Devin is wise to try to coax her out of it.
I am not sure what a dead tree will add to this mess, but if she has an idea, I am all for it.
“Sorry to barge in,” Devin says, clasping her hands in front of her. “But my friend here was in the area and we thought we’d come by.”
“Yes,” I say, adjusting the animal in my arms who is squirming as if it wishes to escape. I worry that if I set the creature down, it will get lost in the many boxes and piles of trash inside the dwelling. The last thing this female needs is yet another rodent in her home, so I tuck the fat creature against my chest and try to hold it still. “I wanted to see if I could be of assistance on your farm.”
Liesje’s expression grows closed off. “I don’t need help.”
“Possibly not,” I amend swiftly. “But I am the one who needs help, and not just with this creature.”
With that, Devin moves to my side, stepping over a box, and snags her animal out of my grasp. Relieved, I brush stray fur off of my sleeves and try to think of an excuse as to why I’m here. An idea hits me and I decide to run with it.
“You see,” I tell Liesje, “the militia would like for us to justify our jobs. You know how the government is. They love to trim the fat edges. And they are not entirely certain that our full office is needed here on Risda. Every year we submit a list of tasks and worked hours to show what we are doing to assist the colonists here, and I’m short.”
“You’re short?” she echoes.
“I am. I missed several days last month due to…ah, personal issues.” I can’t think what they would be, but it sounds good. “And now I have to come up with tasks in order to justify my job. I asked Devin here for help and she wanted me to come out and fix her…bed.”
“Her bed?” Liesje asks. “What’s wrong with her bed?”
“Other than it’s empty?” I wink at the older woman. When she titters, Devin makes a disgusted noise, and I just keep turning on the charm. “She has a broken leg on it. We passed by your field and I thought I might see if you could help me out. I’m in luck as your field hasn’t been turned over yet.”
It’s all trash I’m spewing. I just want to see a smile on Liesje’s face. I want her to let me help her out, even if it’s field-work and repairing bots.
The older human woman gives me a skeptical look. “Does anyone really call you Sin?”
“Only the ones that count,” I joke. “So, will you let me take care of that field for you? Or has someone else already called dibs?”
“No dibs.” She shrugs. “Do as you like.”
Behind Liesje, Devin gives me an excited thumbs-up, which I have learned from other humans means I have done a good job. “I actually need to borrow ‘Sin’ for a bit this afternoon, Liesje. He promised to help me with something.”
And she shoots me a meaningful look and puts her hands over her head, forming a triangle. Is she….praying? Pantomiming that she needs a hat? I scratch my chin and nod slowly. “Yes, that’s correct. May I return in the morning, Liesje?”
“Whatever. I’ll put on some tea. Or maybe I won’t. Don’t expect anything.” Liesje shuffles back to her chair and wraps a blanket around herself. “I’m tired. If you don’t need me for anything else, I’d like to take a nap.”
We make our excuses and then head out of the oppressive small house. Liesje doesn’t see us to the door. It’s like she’s completely done with us, but Devin is encouraged. She beams at me, clutching my arm as we head back out to the sled. “You got her to agree,” she whispers. “That’s amazing.”
“It doesn’t feel like much,” I admit. “How has no one helped her?”
“She doesn’t ask for help, and from what I can understand, your team doesn’t check in unless someone speaks up.”
This seems wrong to me, but Devin is correct. So many of the humans have been scarred by their encounters with aliens we try not to pressure them. “There is a female in town named Bee that works with humans that do not like to talk to aliens. I will speak to her.”