It is a very strange feeling. I have never encountered anything like it. I am not entirely sure what to do with it. Every part of my body is telling me that I have made a spectacular mistake. Possibly the biggest mistake anybody has made in a thousand years.
“Wait. Did I love her?”
I state the question to myself because nobody else is there to listen. The encyclopedia aliens have retreated with baleful looks. Nobody likes a betrayer. Those who betray one entity are likely to betray others. That’s why I usually keep my betrayals private. This one couldn’t be avoided.
I haven’t done anything wrong, I tell myself. I barely knew the girl.
She knew you, though. She trusted you. She thought you were going to save her.
My conscience is pricking me uncomfortably. I check my bank balance in an effort to assuage it. There are a lot of numbers there. None of them make me feel any better, which is strange. I had expected to feel wealthy and therefore happy. I have worked my entire existence to become this rich. I feel as though I could not have made any other choice, and yet the choice I made was the worst I could ever have made.
It makes no sense. I find things and I sell them. I found her and I sold her. I did what I always do. I did what was right for me.
I have never had to encounter this much in the way of internal doubt and concern. I do not like it.
I leave the library and return to my ship. It feels empty when I get inside it. This sentimentality is truly unpleasant. I am accustomed to traveling alone. I do not form bonds with others, especially not with those who have commercial value.
Taking off from the library will make me feel better, I decide. I just need to put distance between it and myself. I’ll forget about her soon enough, and all that will be left is sweet, sweet money.
* * *
Space flows by. I hope that distance and time will make this better. I’ll forget her when the next shiny thing comes along. My stomach growling is a welcome distraction. I’m hungry so I pull into a space rest stop, a small station with a pie shop and little else. I figure I’ll grab some pie, count my money, and feel better.
There’s an elderly attendant waiting for me as I disembark. I prepare to tell him no thanks if he offers to wash the outside of the ship, but he doesn’t do that. Instead he asks me a question.
“Where’s your little human friend? Did you ever find her?”
“Excuse me?”
The attendant makes a motion with his hand at the height of Ava’s head, more or less.
“The pretty human you had with you the last time you were here. You were looking for her. Did you find her?”
“No,” I lie. “I didn’t.”
“Pity. She seemed real sweet on you. And you on her. Tell you what, buddy. Don’t stop looking for her. Not for anything. The universe doesn’t make spares.”
I’d ask him what he meant, but I know. It is an old saying popular in matchmaking circles. It means that there’s one creature for everyone else. Once you meet the one you’re supposed to have, that’s it. The universe isn’t cranking out endless soulmates. That’s the gist of it anyway. I don’t know if I agreed with that before. I think I might now.
Stranger and stranger. I do not remember having met Ava before, but she remembers me, and this attendant has met both of us. That means time streams are flailing around, sometimes crossing, trying desperately to form one big comfortable time lump again. The universe does not like time messes. Sooner or later, usually sooner, anomalies like the one I seem to be trapped in resolve themselves for better, or quite often, worse.
Just as I am considering all the potential ramifications of this situation, my communicator beeps on the commerce channel. I take the call.
“Hello?”
“ZED!” Sounds like an Aberk. A very angry one.
“Yep?”
“After being presented as his new toy, the human you sold us has attacked the Prime Magister. She is wild! She is to be executed.”
I’m going to have to get her back. It’s a need deep inside my gut, an imperative which overrides all other thoughts and impulses.
“Don’t execute her.”
“Why not?”
“She’s worth more alive than dead. She just needs to be handled properly. Let me come and provide some instruction.”
“An attack on the Prime Magister cannot be countenanced.”
“There are punishments you can use. Training you can apply. There was no point paying me all that money just to kill her.” I am trying to stay calm, while knowing that her life depends on what I say now. “I will be there as soon as possible.”