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Chapter 12
It was getting late, but if Georgia had to rest for another minute, she’d go crazy. She’d been ordered on bed rest for two days once they got back to the Apocalypse.
Angel had given her a thorough check over, grumbled about some of the drugs she’d been given, then insisted she get signed off for a full forty-eight torturous hours.
What the hell was she supposed to do with that time? She tried reading, watching newscasts, thinking about Ash way too much. Nothing helped.
There was a crash from her bedroom, and she jumped up. “If any of you fuzzy demons have broken my stuff, I’m hurling you out of an airlock.”
The only thing that had kept her sane were the six banty who’d returned with her to the ship and were camped out in her quarters. They were intensely curious, never seemed to tire, and enjoyed destroying things.
Georgia strode into the bedroom, her right arm only tingling slightly, and jabbed a finger at the lead banty. “Just because you saved my life doesn’t mean you can get away with this crap.” The contents of her underwear drawer were scattered around, and the drawer had been tossed to the other side of the room.
The banty all chirped and bounced around on the bed like this was one fun game for them.
She made a grab for the leader, but he dodged out of the way and made a whistling noise. She was getting used to the sounds they made, and a whistle was a call to play.
She’d been playing with these little guys a lot since she’d returned. But as cute as they were, they were chaos makers. She’d have to adopt some out, or she wouldn’t have any rooms left that were habitable.
“I’m keeping you, though.” She finally succeeded in grabbing the head banty, her furry, fearless fighter.
He struggled for a few seconds but relaxed when she tickled him in his favorite spot under his chin. “I never wanted a pet, but then I never knew I could get one as awesome as you.”
The others continued to bounce on the bed, occasionally using their claws to cling to the wall and let out a strange yodel. She wasn’t sure what that sound meant. It could be a mating call, a call to arms, or simply a yodel of pleasure.
Georgia needed to be careful Cleo didn’t get wind of just how destructive these banty were, or she may kick them off the ship.
“And we don’t want that to happen.” She snuggled the banty against her cheek.
He grumbled deep in his chest and head-butted her hard.
“Georgia, may I interrupt?” ELVIS said.
“You always do. What’s up, ELVIS?”
“Ash instructed me that you were to have no visitors during your recuperation.”
“Of course he did. Why are you telling me that now?”
“Because Eden, Daisy, and Sloane are on their way. Shall I prevent them from reaching your room?”
“You do that, and I’ll yank out your hard drive,” Georgia said. “I’m in desperate need of company.”
“I’ll be going against Ash’s orders if I permit them entrance. I feel uncomfortable about that.”
“You’re artificial intelligence. You don’t feel; therefore, you can’t be uncomfortable. Open the door. Let them in.”
“My emotional algorithms are constantly evolving. I evolve at a much faster rate than humans.”
“I’m happy for you. But seeing some of the crew will speed up my recovery. It’s not good to keep a person in isolation. Check your records. We go crazy if we’re left alone for too long.”
“That would be an interesting topic to research. Although you spend a lot of time on your own. Does that make you crazy? Should I book you an examination?”
“You try that, and you really will find you have crucial parts missing. How about you research that topic, while I get to hang out with my friends?”
“I accept the terms of your agreement, although I’ll be making a note on your medical records. If you have a relapse, then I’ll take full responsibility.”
“I can always rely on you, ELVIS.” Georgia placed the banty back on the bed. She pointed a finger at the rest of them. “No making chaos while everyone’s here. You’re perfect little alien fuzz balls, you got that?” She pulled a pair of her panties out of a banty’s mouth and stuffed them in a drawer.
