My mouth hangs open. “I see.”
“Enjoy this. It can get hard, but it will be an experience you will not forget.” He studies me with a serious expression.
I nod.
“All right, you can pick three things to change about yourself. Look over this book, and I will be back in thirty minutes. I must see to the other ladies.” He leaves.
I start flipping through all the different traits I could gain or change.
Mort sits down on the metal chair across the room and examines her pointy nails. The silence is painful as I stare at her, and I realize she is pretending to ignore me.
I clear my throat. “Any pointers?”
She looks at me like she is put out. “Get a nose job.”
“Really?”
This Mort character is delightful.
She glances at me for real this time and seems to assess me. “I get a bonus if we win,” she says matter-of-factly, and without emotion.
“Number one: a master at riding a horse, which always comes in handy. Two: being in the best physical shape, which gives you a killer body. For a human, that is.
“Three: being a master at archery—you need a defense. It looks like your face is okay, and you have decent-sized breasts, so no need to change any of that.”
“You are very blunt.”
“I will confirm that,” she says without smiling.
“Is he a breast man or butt man?” I must ask.
“Very hard to say. I am unsure of that at this point.” She stares at me.
Right.
Pierce finally returns and relieves us of our awkward conversation about how not to eat anything blue in this world. Especially if it has spots—severe intestine issues, gas for weeks.
A deal-breaker, according to Mort. I want to add that it might be a deal-breaker for anyone.
Charming claps his hands and stops in front of the alien pod, hands on his hips. “Okay! Not all of the ladies took the details of their position as well as you, but that is to be expected.”
I can only imagine how Laura reacted to the news that she is not the true princess. “I’m ready. Mort shared her expertise and some other…interesting facts.”
“Perfect. Come over here and step into the converter,” he orders, smiling at me.
I do so, and I feel like a character from the movie ~Alien~ when they’re in their sleep pods.
The pod shuts around me, and I feel a wave of nerves. I hear a loud pressurized sound, and I can see electronic writing on the screen in front of me.
I hear Pierce’s voice come through the speaker. “All right, which is the first trait?”
I falter for a second. “Master horseback rider.”
“Nice choice, and the second?”
“To be in perfect physical shape.”
“Always a favorite,” he says. “Lastly?”