Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 40729 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 204(@200wpm)___ 163(@250wpm)___ 136(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40729 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 204(@200wpm)___ 163(@250wpm)___ 136(@300wpm)
“He won’t hurt you,” I reiterate.
“As long as he doesn’t crawl on me, I think he’s kinda cute,” Aria offers, and I beam at her as she spoons up something green and foreign looking. I squint to see if I can tell what it is, but it doesn’t help. I make a mental note to have Emery show me around the greenhouses. The plant life here must be fascinating.
Which reminds me… “Do you guys have a library?”
“I wish,” Molly says and rubs at her bulging belly with a twinge of discomfort. “I could use something to keep me busy. Draven hovers when I attempt to get out of bed and there’s only so much sleeping a body can do. A book to read would be just the thing.”
“From what Sayer says, they were able to recover some literature from ancient computer systems before The Rades…well, you know.”
The Rades, as I’ve been told, is a deadly disease that killed off most of the morts. They were on the verge of extinction when they happened upon the ship carrying the five of us bound for the prison. That’s why Avrell, Theron, and Hadrian are at the prison, helping to treat the women there affected by The Rades and attempting to discover a cure once and for all.
“Well, where the heck is he hiding it then?” Molly asks with barely disguised interest.
“If I remember correctly, Uvie stores it in her mainframe. Maybe he and Oz could rig up some sort of tablets with the books on them?” Aria asks.
Thrilled by the idea, I surge to my feet. Legolas twitters at my side, twitching his legs with a clicking sound to signify his irritation at my quick movement. “I’m going to see Oz now. I’ll ask him and let you know.”
I can’t be sure because, duh, no glasses, but I think they all share a look. I don’t blush because, well, of course I’m also going to see him because it’s been nearly a day since we were in the caves. I’ve spent most of the time on this planet so far near him and it feels strange not to have him close by.
Navigating my way through the facility is tedious and time-consuming as I take a wrong turn going from the Nutrition Bay to the Mechanical Bay where Oz’s labs are. He’s supposed to be there spending most of the day working on the weapon for the invasion, but I’ll bet my life he hasn’t taken a break to eat, so I snagged a plate of whatever it was we were eating to take to him. While he eats, I can bring up my glasses and the tablet, but only if he has time. The weapon is much, much more important.
The sound helps me find the rest of the way to Oz’s workshop. I can hear him banging and clanging away from all the way down the hall. It’d be hard to miss it. Some sort of music is playing at full blast and I wonder if they have those files stored on the same mainframe as the books. It would be a fun way to pass the time to sort through everything they have from before the end of the world to see if we could come up with our own kind of library.
Already I’m thinking of this place in terms of ‘our’ and ‘my.’
This alien planet feels more like home than Earth II ever did.
I knock on the door out of habit, but he doesn’t hear me, so I let myself inside. It’s strange walking in when all I can see are blurs of color. There’s a flash of movement where Oz is working at the far side of the room. I move as carefully as I can in his direction with my hands outstretched to keep me from bashing into anything important. Maneuvering around tables and machinery, I manage to get within a few feet of him. The clanging sounds have stopped, so he must be taking a break.
With one hand I reach for him and then freeze as it makes contact with his shoulder. His bare shoulder. His sweaty bare shoulder. I gulp, finding it hard to swallow. My skin prickles at the heat coming off him. Or is that me? My working senses are heightened to compensate for my lack of sight. The music stops abruptly, filling my ears with the sound of my own heartbeat. I don’t remove my hand. Partially because I’m afraid if I do, I may stumble, and partially because he feels so good, I don’t want to stop touching him.
Ever.
“Whisper,” he says. Just the name he has for me. I feel it everywhere. I wish I could see him more clearly to know what my name looks like on his lips.
I pull my hand away reluctantly. “I’m sorry to interrupt. I thought you might be hungry.” Holding out the tray of food, I try to remember why else I came.