Morgan blinked. “Stuck?”
“Yeah, you’re just standing there with a blank look on your face like a downed sexbot.” JR12 zipped to her right shoulder and landed. “Did the other organics leave yet?”
Morgan checked out the closed bay doors. “Yes, they’re gone.” Glancing at the droid on her shoulder, she asked, “What are you doing here?” Looking around, it was easy to see he was alone. “Where’s Ari?” Annoying little guy rarely strayed far from him.
“He’s busy fixingElemi.”
“What?” she exclaimed, spinning around to head out the door. “Without me?”
“Hey, hang on, Gizmo Guru!” JR12 buzzed in her face.
She halted to avoid smacking into him.
“He told me to keep you away until he gives the okay to return.”
Morgan thumped her fists on her hips. That was the stupidest thing she’d ever heard. “What? Why?”
“Because, you clueless organic female, it would be dangerous for him to split his concentration between watching you and fixing the ship. Stupid man can’t take his eyes off you when you’re around.” The hovering bot humphed. “He’d probably end up blowing us all to hell.”
Morgan’s lips curled into a soft smile. The thought of Ari unable to tear his gaze from her sent her pulse into hyper-drive. A warm dose of satisfaction bloomed in her chest. Someone as strong and intriguing as Ari, captivated by her, left her both flattered and relieved. She dreaded thinking his feelings for her weren’t as strong as those she had for him.
Too bad things were so chaotic they hadn’t had a chance to explore their attraction in person. And not just in a Dreamwalk.
Throwing her shoulders back, she glared at the bot. “Okay,Flash. What do you propose we do in the meantime?“ She raised her hand palm up to invite him to land there. She didn’t like talking to him when she couldn’t face him. Looking over her shoulder as they talked made her cross-eyed.
“Glad you asked. First, let me pose a quandary to you.” The bot twisted his head to look at her sideways. “Tell me, have you seen any female Ozevroc?”
Female Ozevroc? What in the world brought that on? She stared at the ceiling as she searched her memories. “No,” she drawled. “Hmm, now that you bring it up, I don’t think I’ve ever seen any female Ozevroc.” She focused on JR12.
His multifaceted eyes gleamed in the low light.
“Why do you ask?”
“I think you’re going to want to see this.” He lifted his right foreleg and pointed to the door. “Come on, let’s go this way.”
JR12 winged off her palm, leaving Morgan no choice but to follow. As they took a mobile elevator, they headed to the lower levels.
When the doors swished open, Morgan’s steps slowed as she followed JR12 deeper into the ship’s underbelly.
The small droid’s metallic wings buzzed like a rotund bumblebee’s, spinning the thick, soured air layered with the scent of decay and filth.
Her stomach churned.
Dim lighting flickered in the hallway, casting eerie shadows that danced against the rusting walls.
Why would their females be down here? This couldn’t be right. Her breath hitched as they approached a sealed door.
“Here we are, Wrench Queen. But I warn you. Prepare yourself.” JR12 said, his voice bittersweet. “This won’t be pretty.”
Morgan hesitated. Something in JR12‘s rigid posture made her tense. Taking in a deep breath, she hesitated and studied the dull, faded surface of the metal door layered with corrosion streaks before pushing on it. As it moved it created a high-pitched screech that ended with a final dull thud when it stopped. As she walked through, a blast of foul air hit her. She turned her head with eyes closed, trying to hold her breath. Wheezing, she took a chance and opened her eyes. Her heart slammed against her ribs at the sight before her.
Cages. Dozens of them, stacked haphazardly, filled with matted, filthy shapes huddled in the corners.
It took a heartbeat moment before the horror sank in, chilling her to the core. These were Ozevroc females. Their long snouts pressed to the cold metal of their enclosures, eyes black and lifeless. Patchy, tangled fur covered their gaunt bodies, ranging from dull gold to a ghastly shade of blue. Some huddled around tiny shapes—young, barely moving, mewling weakly. A constant low whimper from the huddled bodies filled the air like an endless, mournful drone.
The nearest caged female lifted her head, her gaze heavy with exhaustion. Her coarse fur clung to her bony frame, ribs sharp against her skin, as if she hadn’t eaten in days. She pressed her face against the bars, and her tongue flicked out to catch moisture from a filthy trough.
A knot tightened in Morgan’s throat, her chest heavy. She couldn’t look away. Not just confined—their spirits lay crushed beneath years of neglect and cruelty. Tiny shapes wriggled at the edges of her vision, babies clinging to their weakened mothers.
