LITMIR.BIZ

      5

      “I agree to that,” had tumbled out of Nuri’s mouth before she could properly think about the potential fallout from her decision. Citizenship either way – no more Vadith sending her out on dangerous quests. She’d be a Citizen. Free.

      Only later, while Fadhil and Alda were discussing the details of the contract, to which she only listened with half an ear, did Nuri fully begin to realise the depth of her situation.

      Fadhil might be all smiles and niceties, but she’d played right into his hand. If she didn’t become an avatar, why would he bother to formally adopt her?

      Vadith had taken an object of value from the man, and now Fadhil had struck back. And she’d handed herself over on a platter. She may as well have tied a bow around her neck and signed a greeting card while she was at it.

      What about loyalty to her pack? The very loyalty that had kept her alive since Vadith had picked her up out of a literal garbage heap? And he’d seen to her growing up, that she’d had enough to eat and clothes to wear. Even if he had treated her as a prized pet capable of performing fantastic tricks.

      Nuri’s simmering resentment surprised her, especially now she could so easily turn her back on her old life. Her loyalty to Vadith might earn her praise at first, but she’d still be a runner, risking her life and what freedom she had on his dangerous missions. There were no old runners in the pack, and now that she was nearly thirteen, Nuri was already heading towards whatever constituted an early “retirement”. The more she pushed herself, the more she embarked on hair-raising missions, the higher the chance she wouldn’t return one day.

      They all knew this. She ran out of fingers when she counted pack members who’d either been caught and shipped off, or had fallen and splattered themselves. Theirs was not an easy life, even if it was the only life she knew.

      Also, Fadhil might be taking care of her to spite Vadith, and without a doubt he must have ulterior motives in promising her a place in his household, as if she were his own daughter no less. Still, that was a better bet than the barrens. Even if her defection made her a spineless traitor who would be shunned or hunted should she ever return to her previous haunts. The pastries she’d eaten, though at first sweet and delicious, now became stones in her belly.

      Yet Nuri couldn’t help but remember the girl in the photo screens in Fadhil’s study, and wonder.

      The meeting lasted another hour or so, and Nuri was told most of what she’d go through – literacy, diplomacy, etiquette, basic combat skills. All foreign concepts to her, but she agreed. Right now, she’d agree to anything if it meant she had a chance to change her life.

      Imagine that …

      What must it be like to be bonded to a gigantic, living, space-faring entity?

      None of it felt entirely real. Also, as Alda repeated several times during the discussion, nothing was guaranteed. She told Nuri about the star-jumper nymph on another planet half a galaxy away that had called not one but seven, and yet it had been one of the uncalled, a young Heran cleaner working in the facility, who’d ended up bonding during the emergence. In other words, Nuri should not let this incredible privilege go to her head.

      Most importantly, she must not talk about her origins. They concocted a story for her, that she was the daughter of a Merchanter in service to Fadhil, and he’d taken her in as a favour to her parents, who even now were trading in a distant quadrant of the galaxy. Under no circumstances must she let on that she was an erstwhile barrens-dweller. The media would be all over it, and more status-proud patrons would pull their funding, along with their Chosen. Nuri wasn’t sure how she felt about this, but she agreed that it was for the best. Imagine the scions of some Elder family finding out that they were rubbing shoulders with scum. With space trash, as some would say. Ugh.

      It was mid-afternoon when the meeting was over. Fadhil first shook Alda’s hand, then clasped Nuri’s.

      “Whatever happens, you will do well. You will make me proud.”

      “You are not my father,” Nuri said, withdrawing her hands from the man’s grasp while maintaining eye contact.

      “I am aware of that fact, dear girl.” His smile told her that he wasn’t at all bothered by her attitude. To Alda, he said, “I bid you a good day, Facilitator.”

      Alda inclined her head. “We will be in touch.”

      “I look forward to it.” With that, he departed.

      “Ah, Raphel, right on time,” Alda said as a grey-uniformed man entered in Fadhil’s wake.

      Raphel wasn’t much taller than Nuri, but she estimated him to be in his mid-twenties or thereabouts with blue-black skin and close-cropped dark hair. What he lacked in height, he made up with energy. A smile transformed his angular features.

      “And you must be our newest recruit.” It was not a question, and he had a way of looking right into her that made Nuri fix her gaze on the toes of her too-white sneakers.

      “Yes,” Nuri mumbled.

      The man’s honest regard of her was … It just felt weird not having everyone look at her as if she was less than the dirt underfoot.

      “Raphel will settle you in. There’s quite a bit that needs to be done before you can get started,” Alda said. It was a clear dismissal, because the woman had fitted a slim set of lenses to her face, and was starting to scroll.

      “C’mon then, luv,” said Raphel, gesturing to the door. “Let’s get the routine

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