Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 71082 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71082 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
"Oh, mercy, you startled me!" She grasps the front of her tunic and then gives a little laugh.
I can't laugh back. I'm gasping in terror, and the air seems too thin. Her eyes widen at my panic, and I manage to get out a strangled word. "Dorm?"
She points wordlessly, and I stagger toward the building across the street like a dying woman. It's fine. I've got this. It's fine.
It's just...I feel so alone.
No one's here to tell me to take deep breaths. No one's here to reassure me or make jokes to distract me from my panic. No one's coming, either, because I told them not to.
Why is this so ridiculously hard?
I manage to make my way into the boarding house. It's a plain building, like all of the others here in Port, built for convenience and not beauty. The interior has a desk opposite the front door and a rug laid out to welcome people. There's a vase with flowers in one corner, and a large stairwell opens up to what must be the rooms above. There's a hall for the first-floor rooms as well, and it smells like herbs inside. Herbs and lemon, I decide.
But...I'm here. I did it.
I made it here all by myself.
I grip the counter, sweating profusely, and dump my bag on the floor. There's not much in it, but I'm shaking so hard that it feels as if it weighs a million pounds.
"You okay?" the woman behind the counter says. She's a brunette about my age, with her hair pulled back into a no-nonsense bun. I don't recognize her face. "You don't look so well."
Funny, because I'm feeling better by the moment. Because I'm here. I made it, at least part of the way. Now I can just get a room upstairs and hide there for a week and prove to everyone that I can handle myself. "I'm okay."
Her brows go up but she shrugs. "All right."
"May I have a room please? I need one for a week."
She nods, giving me a cordial smile. "We have rooms. You prefer upstairs or downstairs?"
Oh god. I...I don't know. I have to make a choice? No one told me about choices. "Flip a coin," I say, trying to sound jolly and end up sounding forced. "Mine is in my bag."
"Er, how about we put you upstairs." She gives me a cheery smile and then starts typing on a datapad, her tongue sticking out with concentration as she works. I notice she's using an alien language to type, which means she's smart enough to have learned at least one written language since she's been stolen. "Give me your voucher and I'll get you taken care of."
"Voucher?"
She looks up with a frown. "From the custodians?"
"I don't have a voucher." My stomach clenches. "I have money. Credits."
The woman has a dismayed expression. "I have to save the boarding house rooms for refugees. I can't give you one unless you have a voucher from the custodians. You're human. I'm sure they'll give you one." She marches out from behind the desk and goes to the front door, activating it. It slides open and she points outside. "See that building with the rows of windows? That's the custodial office. I'm not sure how you missed it if you're new here, but go there and tell them Melody said you need a voucher. They'll get you fixed up. Then you can come back here and I'll get you a room."
I want to argue with her. Heck, I want to slap a pile of credits onto the desk and just beg her to give me a room. I want to go upstairs and hide. Instead, I force myself to pick up my bag and I put a frozen smile on my face. "Custodians?"
"Yup, just over there. Everyone's very nice, I promise." She gives me an encouraging smile. "We'll get you fixed right up."
I head back out, but instead of panicking this time, I take a deep breath and head for the custodial office. Strangely enough, the worst of the panic has passed. I made it to the dormitory and I didn't die. No one snatched me off the street. I can do this. It's like now that I've made it to one building, all of the anxiety has ebbed.
The custodial office looks like something out of a sitcom, like what I'd imagine an accounting office in outer space would look like. There's a waiting area, a bunch of desks behind a partition, and stacks of what looks like paperwork. A young mesakkah pauses at the sight of me as I enter and then comes forward. "Greetings, human female. May I help you with something?"
"I need a voucher." My voice is a little wobbly. "To stay at the dorm. I can pay."
"That won't be necessary. Follow me and I'll get you fixed up." He gives me a beaming smile, all sharp white teeth and gleaming caps on his horns. "My name is Custodian Ainar."