Page 12 of 20% Stud 80% Muffin
Bent over a sharedsink in the cramped bathroom, I scratched my beard after another sleep-deprived night. “I really need to get my own place.”
Tino, one of my Rock Dweller crew, bumped into me, still half-asleep, and toothpaste dribbled from my chin. “My apologies,” he rumbled extra slowly as he washed his smooth gray face with three-fingered hands.
Sully was the next to stagger into the wash-up area. My deodorant shot across the smooth floor like a hockey puck when he knocked over my toiletry case. “Apologies, boss man.” His deep voice resonated as he spread moisturizing paste over his bald head with one hand and dozily crouched to retrieve my deodorant withthe other.
My work crew was great, but I no longer wanted to live with them. The behemoths put up houses quicker than ten crews back home, but unfortunately, Rock Dwellers had deep, rumbling voices. Putting ten of them into a room together was like sleeping in an airport hangar. And I was entirely too familiar with their grooming habits.
JayJay slammed straight into me, sending my toiletry case flying again as I left the wash-up area. I put my hand up to stop him from speaking. “Yeah, I know. Apologies, boss man.” I mimicked his deep voice. These guys were worse than Cameron without his coffee when he first woke up, bumbling around like drunken sailors. Every morning it was as if I were launched like a pinball and shot between a minefield of sleepy boulders.
Intentionally setting my alarm for half an hour earlier tomorrow, I strolled outside through the arched doorway into a peach-tinted sunrise. The first woodskie squawks spiraled through the air, and the earth was dampened under a layer of dew. I inhaled deeply before the air filled with choking pink dust.
The morning sun warmed the back of my neck and my knees creaked as I settled into the opening pose of my tai chi sequence. Meeting with Makir this morning would require complete control of my mind, and if I skipped my practice, I’d be even more hopeless.
I took another deep breath. I will present myself as nothing but relaxed and approachable.
I didn’t know why Makir would be crucial for my future, but the way my hair stood on end in his presence lingered in my mind, and brushing off my instincts yesterday had kept me up half the night. This sixth sense had never led me wrong, except when I ignored it.
Sweep arms forward… Hold the ball… Pivot… Brush hands with knee… Ward off left…
“You dancing, boss man?” JayJay interrupted me halfway through my set. More awake now, he cupped a thermos full of the syrupy coffee-like drink RockDwellers preferred in his three-fingered hand. His thick brow ridges twitched in question.
“Funny, JayJay.” I paused with my legs spread and arms mimicking a crane. “I’m trying not to act like a jerk at Makir’s appointment, and I’m doing tai chi to focus my energy.” My mind still reeled over how robotically I’d spoken to him yesterday.
The corner of JayJay’s lips twisted up. “Does it work?”
I tipped my head side to side and lunged. “When I’m focused and not distracted by the over-curious.” Then I gave up on tai chi altogether.
“Curious?”
My gaze caught a tiny woodskie flying by. “Inquisitive, nosy, questioning.”
JayJay’s brow ridges dipped and rolled as if he was silently laughing before he sipped more of his morning sludge. “I’ll help you,” he drawled as we walked companionably toward the office.
Before I could question whether JayJay’s offer to help me with Makir was a good thing, the fine hairs on my arms stood on end. Unseen, I knew Makir was around the corner.
My teeth clenched, and I forced my jaw to loosen. “You don’t feel that?”
“Feel what?” The corner of JayJay’s mouth turned down in concern. “You feeling all right?” His thick palm brushed against my forehead.
I swatted his arm away. “Quit it.”
What the hell is wrong with me?
Any positive energy I’d managed to channel earlier was now locked up tighter than Cameron’s passcode to his bank card. My shoulders were so tight I might as well have had a hockey stick strapped across them as I walked to the warehouse.
Makir straddled a hoverbike hauling a trailer. They floated, barely skimming the ground in front of the warehouse. Our eyes met and a sudden jolt of energy forced me to step back and steady myself. His eyes flashed from silver to lavender, then immediately refocused on the dry ground.
Fuck. How am I going to build this guy a house?
Makir’s tail lashed back and forth behind him. The propulsion from the hoverbike clouded the air with bursts of pink dust.
“Is this the lamar you spoke of?” JayJay ambled over to the trailer that hovered behind Makir. On it were thick sheets of a translucent material similar to plexiglass, and a well-worn backpack.
Makir turned off the ignition, and the bike and trailer drifted softly to the ground. His eyes were silver when he murmured a quiet greeting, “Happy morning, JayJay. Yes, I brought some to leave with you. It can be reused to allow light into the dwellings you’re building.” Makir looked at my nose and nodded. “Archbuilder.”
“Salutations, Makir.” I rubbed my palms over my tingling arms and up to my beard, hiding my grimace. I’d never greeted anyone with ‘salutations’ in my entire life. This wasn’t an episode of Star Trek.
JayJay smoothed his hand over the lamar and knocked on it like a door. “I understand now. I think this could be repurposed quite easily and with high demand. What do you think, boss man? We would be happy to pay Makir for supplying us with lamar, wouldn’t we?”
