At that last word, Sylvus goes stiff. After a moment, he wordlessly resumes cleaning up the kitchen.
Oookay. Not in the mood to talk shop.
If I’m honest, I don’t really want to, either. The milking was… more intimate than I expected. I thought I’d just zone out. Back in those last few years on Earth, I used to charge this kid at my school a hundred bucks to suck my toes for ten minutes. Easiest money I ever made.
If it’s like last night every time…
I might be in over my head.
But, hey, what’s new?
Sylvus finishes cleaning the kitchen, then plants me in front of the TV, stringing me up in that ergonomic zero-gravity position again. The screen comes to life, but casts no light—it’s like an animated piece of paper. I expect some incomprehensible alien programming, but instead, the intro to thePlanet Earthdocumentaries plays.
Suddenly, I see what the ICSS has made into the biggest taboo for humans: an image of that little blue planet.
“Sit tight,” he says, looking pleased at his joke as he walks out of the room.
“Wait, where are you going?!”
There’s no answer. I would try to listen for him, but I’m drawn to the forbidden familiarity on the screen in front of me.
Eagles. Lions. Cheetahs.
Memories stir. The friend’s house where I used to sit on the couch, coloring while we watched animal documentaries. The plush penguin I got for my birthday after I became obsessed with them. The way I sobbed in an ICSS sterilization chamber when I realized I’d never be able to go to a zoo again, or walk in a grove of hemlock trees, or lie out in a field and see the same sky I was born under.
Emotion ripples through me.
My eyes sting. Then water. Then overflow.
I hold my breath to keep from crying. A sniffle slips out. Then another.
I can’t wipe my eyes, I can’t rub my nose, there’s nobody to ask for a tissue.
Soon, my body shakes with bitter sobs.
I hate it. I hate that I can’t hold it in anymore. I hate that I’m having an emotional breakdown in the living room of an Arachnoid on Zairion Prime after my latest get-rich-quick scheme predictably fell apart.
God, I’m an idiot.
Warmth and the smell of licorice suddenly surround me.
It makes me cry even harder. I curl my hands toward my face instinctively, and they actually move. The silk wrapping me is gone, and the pressure that remains is from Sylvus’s arms.
I lean into his soothing warmth.
“What happened?” he asks, voice oddly tender.
“I’m stupid,” I sob.
His fingers run through my hair. “You’re not stupid. Just tell me.”
I gesture at the screen, trying to explain that I’m having a moment of weakness, but I can’t get more than two words out at once.
Sylvus immediately turns the screen off. “I’m sorry. I thought you’d like it. I… I should have realized…”
There’s real regret in his tone, and I throw my arms around his neck, clinging and crying even harder.
One arm cradles my hips, and the other strokes my back.
