Page 33 of Star Mates

All three nodded.

“But without them,” she continued, “the Merloni and the Kexians won’t stop hunting us.”

“You got it.”

“Well, us humans are rebels deep in our souls,” she mused.

“You must have had a decent master then,” Pansy replied. “Mine liked giving me to his friends.”

Bishop nodded, as if he understood. Pansy’s sentence painted an ugly picture, one that Emmarie would have had to live through had it not been for Pell Raiden. It was a sobering thought.

The next two days she spent walking outside, observing the people. There were several nationalities in Sparta, but they didn’t call themselves one race. The communities stayed separated, practically divided. And for a bunch of humans trying to win freedom and independence, it was an attitude that confused her.

“Why is everyone so segregated?” she asked one afternoon.

“What do you mean?”

“Except for this place, I’ve noticed the people of Sparta tend to stick to their own demographic.”

She got a blank look from Bishop, Pansy and Harpo.

“It’s hard for people to trust,” Pansy said. “Even here.”

“This can disappear in the blink of an eye, and we’d be right back to where we were,” Bishop added.

“That means we need to rally the people,” Emmarie said. “Get them to fully understand the benefits of being part of a revolution. To end the uncertainty and fear.”

They all laughed.

“Revolution?” Patsy questioned. “What revolution? Do you mean this semi secure city filled with well-meaning but utterly hopeless rebel leaders?”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Bishop said.

“We could do it,” Emmarie insisted.

“How?”

Emmarie thought for a moment. “I don’t know. But there has to be some way to get a message across.”

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