I’ve never been so happy before, at any time in my entire existence, even the time I thought I’d been given a pony for my birthday when I was nine. I am happy because I’m clinging to the fantasy where Tyrant secretly maybe loves me, or at least doesn’t want me dead.
I’ve packed up what remains of my possessions. I have three pairs of underwear, not that I’ll need them because you don’t need clothes on Tyrant’s ship. You can just pull them out of nowhere. I can’t wait to see something pulled out of nowhere again. Things will feel normal again. I miss normal.
Last time I was swept up onto his ship, I was unprepared. This time I’ve done my makeup and I’m wearing my cutest dress. It’s little and red and it clings to my ass and flares out just above the knee. I love it. I hope Tyrant loves it too.
SCHWOOP!
The world has gone, and it’s been replaced with the interior of a ship. I thought there was going to be a bit more fanfare, a golden light and a ramp running up into the interior of the alien vessel. Like the first time.
“AN AUDIT!?”
The words are screamed into my ears. Well, not screamed. More like boomed in a deeply masculine way,
“An AUDIT!!!”
When I do not immediately respond, the words are repeated, louder and more intensely than ever. I’ve never heard anybody this angry ever. I didn’t realize it was possible to sound this furious without an atrocity taking place.
I suppose, according to Tyrant, an audit is an atrocity. And maybe it is. I don’t know.
“Uh…” I fight to find words as King Tyrant towers over me, his shoulders broad, his eyes bright, and his body… covered in scars, actually. He's been in the wars, literally. He’s missing some scales, and in their place are pitch black voids. I feel like I’m seeing part of him I shouldn’t be seeing, his wounded interior.
I don’t understand what Tyrant fundamentally is. I mistook him for an alien version of a man, because men are all I know, but it looks like I could poke my finger into that darkness and be swallowed up by an absence of being.
This was supposed to be the part where I told him that Mr. Rogers was plotting to kill me, but it’s actually the part where I suddenly realize I have absolutely no proof of that. And actually, because I’ve lied about the whole audit thing, it somewhat makes me sound less believable when and if I tell him about my murderous boss.
“Yeah,” I say. “It really sucks, huh.”
Tyrant looks me up and down with that stare I remember, and kind of didn’t anticipate. I thought this would be a romantic reunion. I thought he would sweep me into his arms and I would know that I was eternally safe. But those were the daydreams of a desperate woman.
Instead, I find myself overdressed, being stared at as if I just drove onto his ship in a clown car tooting my big red nose.
“You look different, human.”
I swallow. He doesn’t look pleased to see me. Why doesn’t he at least look pleased to see me? I didn’t think we parted company on such bad terms he would be loathe to even look at me.
Then I remember the lie about the audit. He thinks he’s in mortal danger. He’s in battle mode. And he’s wounded. There’s a huge set of stitches running down his chest, almost all the way to his navel. Something cut him deep. I wonder if it was one of the mantids, or if some other space monster took a chunk out of him.
“Sire, we need to return to the field of battle as quickly as possible,” Terrible says. “We are receiving reports from across the fleet that the fighting has become unsurvivable.”
“Tania, you need to report to your previous quarters. All our documentation is still there. Terrible, come with me.”
And just like that, he’s gone. He spins on his heel and storms toward the bridge, his back bearing even more scars than the front. I catch a glimpse of imagined battle, how he must have been surrounded on all sides, assailed by dangerous beasts who want nothing more than to destroy him.
I’ve made a huge mistake. I should have run away to a small town in New Zealand. Eketahuna, maybe. Or Levin, though the internet says that’s getting bigger by the day.
I can’t exactly tell them to just drop me back on Earth, though. I don't think Tyrant is going to forgive me if I tell him the whole thing was a jk lol. I don’t think he has any sense of humor left.
One of the aides helps me through the halls. We have to walk down them as if they are normal walls. Everything has changed. Me. Tyrant. And the ship itself. It is on a war footing. The walls are fully solid and obsidian black. There is an oppressive atmosphere, a seriousness and intensity which wasn't there before.