Page 59 of Scorching the Alien Empire
...What will Dracoth do tomorrow? Will he work with the murder-bots? The giant bore didn’t seem sure when I asked, and I didn’t know what to suggest. The idea of owing those soulless machines makes my stomach churn like I’ve downed fifty sock-chair steaks. But if they’re the only way for us to reach the top...
My breathing quickens. I glance down—my hands are clenched into fists.
Damn it! Why is this so difficult?
I close my eyes and exhale loudly, shaking my shoulders and settling into a comfortable position once more.
Nice deep breaths, and happy, fluffy thoughts.
Clang!
“What the—?”
I jolt upright like I’ve been struck by lightning, my head whipping to the source of the noise. Near the tall desk, I see it: a metal disc and surgical tools still wobbling from the impact, and the frantic skittering legs of a guilty escapee.
“Todd!”
I wave my hand at his retreating plumpness. “Don’t you run away, mister! Get back here this instant,” I demand, my voice brooking no argument.
He ducks behind a large gray-metal drawer, a blur of red-black movement almost invisible against the dim purple light and swirling green fumes. A moment later, Todd’s big eye peeks out from under his hidey-hole, his mandibles opening and closing lazily.
I smirk. “Look whatI’vegot.”
I flash a portion of jelly stick like I’m dealing drugs in a hobo back alley in New York. And like a drug addict, Todd’s eye blinks rapidly. His little spindly legs twitch, carrying his curvy self toward me in a blinding race for the perpetually starving.
“Oaf!”
He launches himself into my stomach, hitting me like a series of glued-together bowling balls.
“You big chunk,” I gasp as he shoves his head between my hands, greedily inhaling the jelly stick.
I sigh, stroking his rubbery, warm, segmented body. As Todd devours his treat, I ease back into a cross-legged position, mimicking Ignixis’s stance. His rhythmic mandible clicks act like an oddly soothing metronome under my pets.
Silence.
Is he still eating?
I crack one eye open.
Todd is already napping, his plump body rising and falling in a peaceful rhythm.
I scowl. My pet bug has achieved enlightenment before me.
Maybe if I only thought about food, I’d reach Zen like Todd.
Not jelly sticks, though. Those taste like high heels dipped in fruit juice. No, I want... French toast. Thick, golden slices dusted with powdered sugar, dripping with syrup, topped with fresh strawberries. A steaming cup of mocha on the side.
Stop!I’m getting distracted again!
I rock back and forth, trying to reset, to find some semblance of comfort. With a deep inhale, I settle into a slow rhythm. My posture straightens, serene. Eyes closed. Hands cupped around the small, warm bundle that is Todd.
Breathe in. Hold. Exhale.
Is Sandra settling in okay? What if she’s lonely? What if she regrets coming with us?
Focus!
My back itches. Maybe I should—
