We step out…
…and Danek is immediately bowled over by a squeaking, hooting, swarm of fluffy furballs.
For a second, I stare down at him in utter shock. There are more than a dozen rainbow colored critters on top of him, walking across him, tugging at his rings and chirping with excitement. One of them, a neon-yellow animal, settles on his chest and kneads its claws into his skin, looking perfectly at home. A trio of purple fuzzballs bounce between the wall and his face, squeaking in excitement. A blue mop of fur settles near his head and yanks gleefully at his hair. They head-butt his arm and tug at his shirt and swat with utter abandon at the fearsome, fire-breathing dragon-shifter.
I can’t help it; I start to laugh.
A Zorahn woman rushes over. “I’m so sorry,” she squeals in Zor. “We try to keep them contained, but they’re terribly clever. They always manage to get loose.” She tosses a handful of treats inside a ring marked on the floor, and the critters abandon Danek and zoom toward the food. The second they cross into the ring, she smiles triumphantly and slams a force field in place. “Got you, you little floofs.”
The floofs look a little bit like kittens. Rainbow kittens, but their bodies are rounder, and they have six legs, not four. Oh, and three fluffy tails. Their fur sticks out when they’re excited, and they look like pom-poms. They flock to the treats and are so busy chowing down that they don’t even notice they’re trapped. I watch them, still laughing, and then transfer my attention to Danek.
His hair is too short to be tousled, but his shirt is torn in a couple of spots, and the formerly white fabric is now an interesting mix of pink and green, yellow, and blue. Evidently, the floofs shed a lot. “You doing okay?” I ask him, my lips twitching. “Want a hand up?”
His eyes gleam in amusement. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
I don’t even try to pretend otherwise. “You have no idea how much.”
He laughs and gets to his feet. The saleswoman comes up to us again, wringing her hands in consternation. “Once again, I’m so sorry,” she says. “This isn’t the first time they’ve done this. Again and again, I’ve told the manager how destructive they are. I don’t know why we even stock them.”
“Because they’re adorable?” I suggest.
She looks at me blankly. Danek intervenes. “My bondmate doesn’t speak Zor,” he says smoothly. “Her native tongue isn’t in the lexicon. She finds these creatures charming.”
“She does?” She brightens, sensing a commission. “They’re great pets. Friendly—”
“I noticed,” Danek says dryly.
“Yes, and they imprint on you. Very loyal.” She sticks her hand inside the cage, draws an orange one out, and puts it into my arms. “See?”
Oh God. The little floof—what a great name for these adorable fluffballs—cuddles up to me, hooting softly, its tiny paws digging into my jumpsuit. Then it promptly falls asleep. I stroke it, marveling at how soft it feels. How fragile, but still warm and intensely alive.
Danek takes one look at my face. “We’ll take it,” he declares.
I have to work really hard to remember I’m mad at him. “Three,” I whisper. “I want three of them. Can I have the pink ones too?”
He gives me a fond look. “Of course.” He turns back to the saleswoman. “We’ll also take the two pink ones. And while we’re here, can you recommend a clothing store?”
Danek pays for the floofs and we arrange to pick them up after shopping for clothes. I give Pumpkin up with reluctance—yes, I’ve already named him—and go outside. Danek hoists me on the skimmer again, and we head to our next destination, Nimral, the boutique the saleswoman recommended.
I wait for Danek to reactivate the cone of silence. The moment it’s in place, I turn to him. “She couldn’t understand me,” I blurt out. “I don’t speak Zor. I can’t believe I never thought about this. Nobody’s translator is going to understand English. Isn’t that going to be a problem?”
“Not at all,” he says, giving me a reassuring smile. “Miners come from all over the galaxy, from a wide array of planets. Zor might be the official language of the High Empire, but it’s certainly not the only language spoken through the galaxy. Most people learn Zor as a matter of course, but they primarily speak their own language. Almost everyone on Noturn will be using a translator. Dariux would have already sent your language files over to Cindifin to be added to the lexicon.”
“Huh?”
“Your language—English—will be uploaded to the Cindifin translators,” he explains. “Everyone who travels to Noturn will update their translators so that they can understand each other. It’s basic courtesy.”
“So everyone always understands everyone else?”
He shrugs. “It’s not perfect. It has flaws. Language and culture are very intertwined. Earlier today, when you were talking about panties, I wasn’t sure what you were saying.”
“What?” I was talking about panties? I mean, he’s hot enough to melt them, but I’m not stupid enough to say that out loud.
“You said something about wearing them.”
It takes a few seconds for me to realize what he’s talking about. “Put your big boy panties on.” I start to giggle. “It means to toughen up. What did you think it meant?”
His lips twitch. “Do you want me to answer that question, Naomi?”
I feel myself blush furiously. “About the translators,” I murmur, desperate to change the subject. “We were talking about translators.”
His gaze lingers on me, and then he turns his attention to the roadway. “Translators. Of course. The English translator is quite good because the High Empire studied Earth for a long time, and they refined their translator before you traveled here. In small planets, where only three
