Page 53 of Seven Oars
Rosamma hadn’t meant to share what had happened, but when Phex had more or less dragged her in, not the other way around, questions started coming.
Gro chided her for her foolishness.“I hope you’ve learned your lesson.”
She had. Yet if Phex needed her, she’d put herself on the line again without hesitation.
“Hey, at least they didn’t make you dance!” Fawn said, upbeat.
“No, they didn’t do that.” Rosamma lay down, utterly exhausted.
“Or raped you,” Sassa said quietly.
Alyesha gave Rosamma an assessing look that dismissed the possibility.
Phex was incensed.“Not the alien females.”
“Bro,” Fawn said,“we aren’t suggestingyouhave those kinds of thoughts. Buttheymight.”
The robot rolled in, and everyone went silent. The purple light distracted Daphne from staring at the wall. She wanted to follow it, and when Eze gently tightened her arms around her, she pitched a wailing fit.
Under the women’s wary gazes, the robot whirred and squeaked, doing its little robot dance, rolling back and forth in small motions, as if deciding where to go next. Its fake eyes rotated with purpose, scanning the Cargo Hold’s interior.
Evidently, nothing aroused suspicions, because without a word, it abruptly quit their quarters.
“That thing is funny.” Fawn giggled.
Alyesha gave Fawn a withering look.“This thing is not funny; it’s vile. It spies and snitches.”
“Why does it look like a fortune teller?”
“It probably knows when you die,” Alyesha said drolly.“You should ask it.”
“Hell, no. And it can’t know. You’re just being a bitch.”
Fawn fell silent, which was likely Alyesha’s point.
But her comparison was spot on.
The robot represented an ugly embodiment of a twisted engineering thought. Its“body” was as square and heavy-looking as a fireproof safe set atop a spindly tripod. The tripod was tipped with sturdy rover wheels that looked capable of scaling extraterrestrial boulders. It rolled nimbly, pivoting and changing direction at a moment’s notice to avoid collisions.
In itself, an autonomous interactive robot wasn’t surprising.
Its costume was.
Dressed up to approximate a female, it wore an old jet-black wig with a drooping violet bow. Lashes that looked suspiciously like paintbrush bristles stuck out above the bulbous eyes. A colorful silk scarf was tied loosely around its“shoulders.”
By far the worst feature was the robot’s after-market breasts that someone had, inexplicably, taken time to craft from available materials. They were large, uneven, and poorly attached. Still, they were recognizable breasts. With nipples.
“Have you already eaten? I’m starving.”
Bustling past Alyesha, Anske headed to the supplies.She took several cans and pouches of food, way more than the agreed-upon daily norm.
Gro and Eze sprang up from their respective pads and advanced on her.
“Put that down.”
Anske blanched.“What… Why?”
“It’s not mealtime, and that shelf is for the next month. Put it back.”
