“That—that is not a real number,” he protested. “Wait—does there have to be a winner at this game? Perhaps I do not understand the rules?”
I pulled the front panel of my dress in to clean myself off. “No, believe me—you understand them plenty,” I said, with a grin.
He realized what I was doing and moved to help me, taking the fabric from my hand. “How much of that is there in me?” he wondered, while I went up on my tip-toes to give him room.
“Uh...” I began, stymied by my lack of human sex education. “Also infinity? I think. Because you can always make more.”
“Good,” he said, and sounded like he meant it. “So very good. And—I love you infinity plus infinity.”
“Stop it,” I teased, wrapping my arms around his neck to nuzzle into him. “Or you’re going to make me like math.”
“Who doesn’t like math?” he asked the room at large before looking down at me. Then his attention wandered—I could hear it in his mind, and see it in his eyes.
“How’s it looking?”
“Your three replicas will have sold for sure.”
“And . . . me?”
“Current odds for bids are three out of five buyers, based off of multiple inquiries to Voss’s assistant, two internal comms threads, and one encrypted call to a personal psychic. I believe he asked if your ‘aura would interfere with his third marriage.’”
I snorted. “Okay. We can work with that. Right?”
“Right,” Nex said—much less definitively.
“What’s wrong?”
He drew a pensive breath. “I . . . am unhappy with the odds.”
“Don’t be,” I told him, and his gaze caught mine.
“How can I not?”
“Because nothing, as a human, happens under perfect conditions.”
“You’re only half-human,” he said, ego bruised, and I laughed.
“Even sirens aren’t perfect, Nex. Or incredibly powerful-but-metaphorically-impaired AIs. I mean—Voss could’ve choked tonight on a shrimp cocktail, before any of this leash transfer nonsense tomorrow, and everything could’ve been taken out of your hands. Or—I could’ve died while you were giving me head, because I don’t know if you were monitoring my heart rate thewholetime, but it felt like there were a few moments where it was touch and go.”
“Giving you head . . .” he pondered.
“When you were down there.” I gestured to the part of me my skirt now hid. I was fucked for clothing now—I’d be back in of a hospital gown for sure—my evening dress had become a biohazard. “Girls can call it that, too, you know,” I said while he was still clearly thinking.
“I need to go,” he announced, coming to a decision, tucking himself back into his pants.
“O...kay?” I looked between me and the closed pen behind me.
“This is keyed to you now,” he said, retrieving the tablet. “It operates the box, the door to your cage, and half the ship. If anyone comes in here, do whatever you want. I’ll keep the cameras looped indefinitely.”
I rose up on my toes again. “Where are you going?”
“I need to go do a thing. If I can.”
“That sounds sort of final . . .”
“It might be hard. And I am in a rush,” he said, picking up my free hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss. “My love for you is perfect, Sirena,” he promised. “And—so is math,” he added, before turning to stride out the door.
I squeaked in protest, but it was too late—so I tried to read his plans from him. But I was repelled by a glittering array of his thoughts, moving faster than I could track, darting in every direction like fish scattering in the sea.
