The little bot actually looked like he was taken aback at the suggestion.
“Kidding,” Kira said. “You’re staying with us. You’re a good little guard bot.”
“Is she always like this?” TenSix asked me.
“Beats me. I’ve known her for less than a week.”
“Really? I would have guessed that the two of you had been a couple for quite some time.”
Kira looked at me with a shy smile. “You pay him to say that?”
“Not me.” I smiled back at her.
Our next stop was towards the center of town, where five of the main thoroughfares converged into a ringed plaza lined with shops, restaurants, and inns.
A little záwù was still open, so we went inside and got some supplies—food, water, a pack of leptic sticks for Kira, some toiletries, and a bottle of cheap whiskey.
“Strictly for medicinal purposes,” Kira explained.
“I was wondering if you actually intended for us to drink that rotgut.”
We headed across the plaza and down a short side street which ended in the courtyard of a narrow five-story building. According to the well-weathered, but still mostly-illuminated sign, this was The Hansard.
Before we entered the lobby, Kira handed me her cloak.
“Wrap Short Stuff up in that and carry him like a baby.”
“You serious?”
“They’re not crazy about bots here.”
I squatted down in front of TenSix. “You’re a bit larger than a baby.”
“It depends on which species you are talking about,” TenSix said.
“Fair enough. You okay with being swaddled, though?”
“It’s rather demeaning, but I do understand why it might be necessary. Swaddle away, Jannigan Beck!”
TenSix shut down his lights and all visual indicators and tucked his three appendages up against his body. Then I wrapped him up in Kira’s cloak and hefted the package under my arm.
The lobby of The Hansard was cluttered with tattered furniture. Its walls were adorned with framed prints of old maps and botanical sketches, as well as an array of unfortunate jungle animals that had been killed, decapitated, and stuffed. Someone was trying to go for a hunting lodge feel, but everything was so old and dusty, I couldn’t imagine wanting to spend any time here.
The human male behind the front desk was equally old and dusty, but his face lit up in a smile at the sight of Kira.
“Miss Lark, good to see you,” he said in a wheezy voice.
“Nice to see you, Potchly.”
“We have your rooms ready.” His eyes drifted over to me questioningly. “Two rooms?”
“My parents have been delayed a few days, so it’ll just be one room for us. This is Mister—”
“Jeris,” I said, using my favorite alias—which was actually the name I had given my medical bot back home.
“Very good, Miss Lark. Mr. Jeris.”
As he set up our room security and billing, Potchly kept glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. Finally he said, “Mr. Jeris, sir, there’s something quite familiar about you. Have you stayed with us before?”
“No, this is actually my first time in Ganga Kos, but I get that a lot. I must just have one of those faces…” I turned and pretended to admire a stuffed anteater-like creature.
Damn. I should have known. Even with a two-week-old beard, I looked enough like my father to get some second looks from people.
Our room was on the fifth floor, up an ornate carved wooden staircase carpeted with worn imitation Myssian runners. An older biomark security system granted us access to our room.
“Not bad,” I said. “It’s bigger than I thought.”
“We’re probably the only guests here, so Potchly gave us the Imperial suite.” Kira tossed her bag on one of the beds, and I unwrapped TenSix and set him carefully down on the ground.
“All clear,” I said.
TenSix came back to life with a flicker of indicator lights and illuminated displays.
“How about you do a surveillance sweep for us, Short Stuff,” Kira said. “Potchly’s all right, but he’s a bit of a perv. I wouldn’t be surprised if there are a few electronic spy-holes or whatnot.”
“Of course, Dr. Lark.”
“You’ve got the shower first, Adventure Boy.” Kira handed me a bag of toiletries.
“You can go ahead—”
“No way, you stench much worse than me. Go!” She flicked on the entertainment display and grabbed a bag of chips.
The shower stall had various kinds of tiny plant-life growing in its corners, but I didn’t care. The hot shower felt great. I spent extra time scrubbing off the last remnants of the temporary pigment my cousin Gemma had applied to my skin to make me look more like my father. It usually wore off by itself within a month, but anything I could do to dampen the resemblance to Sean Beck was probably a good idea. There was not much I could do about my features, though, and I couldn’t speed up the process of my hair and beard growing.
I also decided to take my chances with the hotel robe and wash my borrowed clothes in the sink. Then I squeezed them out and hung them to dry.
Back in the room, Kira was sprawled out on one of the beds with a cup of cheap whiskey and a bag of snacks, eyes glued to the show on the wall-mounted display screen.
“What are you watching?” I asked, sitting down next to her.
“You, apparently.”
I looked up to see an old episode of Wild Galaxy, a docu-series about my dad’s exploits that ran back in the early 20s, playing on the screen.
“This is crazy,” Kira said, pointing at the screen. “He looks just like you. Are you a freaking clone, or what?”
“No, but I might as well be. The old man really tweaked my genetics. In more ways than just how I look.”
“What are you talking about?”
“It’s kind of embarrassing,” I said.
“What?” She turned to me with a mischievous smile. “Tell me.”
“My dad was very heteronormative, and so I’ve been kind of programmed in terms of my sexual desires. He also was a big believer in monogamy.” I shrugged. “That’s just how I’m wired.”
“You must get bored a lot.”
“Actually, not so far.”
“Well, I think it’s charming.” She pulled me in
