I broke off, catching a miniscule shake of Clanker’s head. He was right. I couldn’t say I didn’t know what happened, because that would prove he was outside my control. I stared at the guard helplessly, trying to focus. There was something Clanker said, only, it didn’t fit the context at all, and I was too distracted to remember, and…
“Take your time.”
I released a shaky breath, taking heart in the furry guard’s patient demeanor. Behind them, the two matte bots held their guns in steady grips, faceless and terrifying. The onlookers whispered, watching me with expressions ranging from irritated to amused.
What was it? Clanker played music. And danced. And… Aha.
“I am so sorry,” I said, taking a deep bow. “This is entirely my fault. I was sad and I asked my cyborg to make me laugh. I had no idea he would hijack the speaker system to play music. Usually he uses his built-in speakers when he dances. I deeply apologize.”
I bowed again, and when I glanced at the guard’s expression, their muzzle seemed amused.
“Why were you sad?” they asked, a question that was completely irrelevant but very kind. I would have wept from gratitude if I wasn’t so stressed out.
“My mother died,” I said the first thing that popped in my head, a bitter taste coating the back of my throat.
I hated using her death like that, but it was the truth. I never stopped feeling sad about it.
A few of the onlookers gasped, and the guard glanced at their partner, nodding. I cast my eyes down and prayed for their compassion to be enough.
“I am sorry,” they said, looking between Clanker and me. “We were alerted that the security device was disconnected. We’ll have to check it. Tell your robot to stand still.”
I did, and one of the bots scanned Clanker’s collar. The results of the scan appeared in a string of blue signs on the bot’s torso, and I hid a sigh of relief when it said the collar was connected and functional.
The guard reviewed the report and told us to go, and did I imagine it, or did they wink? Their black eyes buried in reddish fur seemed to glitter with amusement. I thanked them, bowing again and again, and finally, the guards left. The small crowd moved, some people passing us hastily, others giving me kind smiles. I turned to Clanker, staring at him expectantly. I was wiped out and needed him to tell me what to do next.
“Help. Please.”
He stepped close, lowering his face to mine, and extinguished the purple glow of his eyes for a second. I sighed, my shoulders dropping, and blinked back. Clanker straightened and took my hand, leading me down the corridor, then turned toward a row of elevators.
“No,” I protested, weakly, still walking. “We need to take the train, get into the city…”
“You need to rest.Finding the nearest accommodation.”
“Airport hotels are expensive,” I said in a last ditch effort. “I can’t afford…”
“I’ll find a cheap one. Rest, beautiful. I’ll take care of you.”
Wait… Beautiful?
I shook my head, but at that point, I was too overwhelmed to remember I wasn’t supposed to trust him. Clanker led the way,and I followed him, holding on to his hand like it was my anchor in the turbulent world.
Chapter 7
Dean
Idownloaded a comprehensive list of 247 endearments, resolving to find one Sera would like. Right now, she was unresponsive, staring gloomily at the cheapest hotel I found outside the airport. I scanned our surroundings in twelve-second intervals, making sure we were safe as planes whooshed over our heads in the humid night air.
“Well, fine,” she said in a quiet, exhausted voice. “I did ask for a cheap one. It’s on me. Do they have showers?”
“Yes. And the shower cleanliness is rated at 9.4, rivaling the most expensive hotels in the area.”
“I’ll need fresh clothes. Is there any way…”
“Yes,” I interrupted, because she was too tired to speak up, and I didn’t want her to waste any more strength on telling me obvious things I’d already considered. “There is a vending clothes printer with ample style selection. There is no dining facility, but I counted seven vending machines with many choices of both fresh and highly processed foods.”
She sighed and nodded, the purple light of the neon sign with the hotel’s name reflecting in her eyes. It was calledSuyaSuya, promising a calm, comforting sleep.
“When I was a kid, I really wanted to spend a night in a capsule hotel,” she admitted quietly with a wry smile.
