Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 105936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
I had no time to question his behavior further because we stepped up past the pillars and the servant in the golden loincloth came to stand in front of us. The color really set off his dark purple skin, I thought.
“Halt. Who are you and what business do you have with my master?” he demanded, frowning at us.
“My name is Turk, Captain of The Illyrian—a vessel from the Imperium Galaxy,” Turk said shortly. “And this is my navigator, Cass. Your boss is expecting us.”
The guard frowned at us and then narrowed his eyes at me, his long nose twitching.
“This is a males-only house,” he announced. “It’s ill luck to bring a woman into man’s business.”
I felt my stomach lurch—could he see past the field the Synth implant was projecting? Could he tell I was female? Was it some gift the Salashions had? The man with the spiker at the spaceport had thought I was Turk’s “lady” as well. What was going on?
But Turk didn’t seem to question it.
“We are male,” he growled impatiently. “I guarantee it. Now let us the fuck in.”
The guard stared at me for a moment more, his nose wiggling, then shrugged.
“Well, it’s your foreshortening if you’re lying. Very well, come in. I’ll announce your presence.”
He opened the tall black door and ushered us into a small, circular foyer that was done in black and white marble tiles. There was a small table with a vase on it in the middle of the round room. The flowers were tall and exotic looking with blue and orange blossoms that smelled very sweet and strong and slightly spicy—like cinnamon, I thought, or some other spice I couldn’t name.
The guard left us there and exited into the main part of the house through a tall door that was painted red.
“Now while we’re here, just let me do the talking,” Turk said in a low voice. “The Salashions are touchy about several subjects so it’s better for you to be silent. All right?”
“Fine with me.” I shrugged. I hadn’t come there to join in the negotiations—I was just along for the ride, so to speak.
“Good.” He nodded just as the guard came back and ushered us through the red door.
“Go to the end of the hall and through the green and gold archway,” he instructed. “The boss is waiting for you.”
Turk nodded curtly and then we made our way down a long, dark hallway that seemed to be lined with living portraits. Or if not living, they certainly gave the appearance of life. All of them were of bald Salashion men dressed in rich robes. They started moving and talking as we walked by, apparently trying to tell us their life’s story.
“I was born into humble circumstances—just a poor biscuit boy hobbled by the lack of family wealth,” one began as we walked past.
“My life was filled with controversy! None could understand my vision!” proclaimed another as we passed it.
“My best friend ate my third thumb!” a third cried as we stepped up to the portrait. That one I would have liked to stay and hear, but Turk tugged at my elbow and we passed by without finding out exactly what had happened.
At last we came to an archway that was painted dark green with golden flowers. We stepped inside and found a large room with a round table in the center. Seated at the table were four Salashions. One of them was extremely old—or at least I thought he must be, considering the wrinkles around his eyes and the long silver beard that was growing from his chin.
“Master Gobosh, it’s very good to see you again.” Turk bowed, so I bowed too. When we rose, the older male nodded back at us.
“We have a long and happy trading relationship with your Clan, Captain Turk, and are pleased to welcome you once more to the House of Business,” he murmured. “But tell me, who is this person you have with you?” His nose wiggled as he looked at me, frowning.
I began to feel nervous, but Turk didn’t look worried.
“This is Cass, my navigator. He’s young so I brought him along to keep him safe,” he said.
One of the men—the closest to us—frowned. His nose, which was longer than all the others—almost a kind of trunk—began to wiggle.
“That’s no he—that’s a she!” he proclaimed, pointing at me. “I can smell her!”
I took a step back instinctively, but Turk shook his head.
“No, you’re mistaken. I’ve taken showers with Cass before—I can vouch for the fact that he’s a male. He’s from Cata Prime and has Catamite blood—that’s what you’re smelling.”
“No! Lies!” the one with the extra long nose insisted. He jumped out of his chair and came to stand in front of me. Without warning, he bent over and began snuffling me all over, his long, mobile nose running over my body like some kind of bizarre detector.