Page 48 of Solan

“Matching with someone high up is looked on favorably by aliens interested in our services. Other planets will send their royalty to us for suitable matches. We can charge double when they do.”

“That’s not what this is about,” Vegas said. “You don’t seem to care that being anywhere near Brigadier Boros makes my skin crawl. All you want to do is get a royal seal of approval for this place and make plenty of money while you do it.”

“Being driven by commerce is not a bad thing,” Diadora said.

Vegas stepped back from the desk, her hands clenched into fists. “I didn’t realize your human heart had also been replaced with a cybernetic part.”

“Vegas, maybe you shouldn’t,” Heather whispered.

Diadora rose to her feet. Despite the slowness of the movement, it looked like a snake uncoiling from its nest as it spied a victim. “How my heart functions is none of your business. I will ensure the continued success of My Single Alien. You and your airhead companion here are not going to ruin this operation.”

“You know damn well My Single Alien is a success because of the work I do,” Vegas said. “I was hired because I was a shit hot matchmaker on Earth when everything else shut down. I pulled this place together within two months while acclimatizing to life in space and getting to know the dozens of weird and quite frankly terrifying aliens shooting through the Glory Hole.”

Heather’s fingers wrapped around her arm, but Vegas was too lost in her anger to stay quiet. “There are hundreds of healthy alien-human babies out there, thanks to me and the hard work of the matchmaking team. Nobody else would have been able to achieve this. I know you hate that. I know the jealousy makes your cybernetic parts spark when you think of what I’ve achieved. You shouldn’t be jealous because of what I’ve done. I make you look good. I keep my mouth shut so you get the glory and accolades. My Single Alien would be nothing if it wasn’t for me.” And there it was. Vegas’s fate was sealed because her mouth overran her sensibility.

The tablet in Diadora’s hand snapped in half. “You think highly of yourself. I doubt that will be the case when Brigadier Boros has finished with you. The deal is made. He has paid for you. When he has dealt with his own personal matters here, you are leaving with him at the next allotted departure time.”

“That’s not going to happen.” Panic seized Vegas’s chest. “You have to give him back his money.”

“It’s too late. You can pack a few things if you want to take them. It’s time to say goodbye to your friends. I doubt you’ll be missed.” Diadora stared Vegas down from across the desk.

Heather’s fingers tightened on Vegas’s arm. “We should go.”

“That’s the first sensible thing you’ve said since you arrived,” Diadora said. “You get back to work. If you miss another target for the rest of this month, I will dock your wages and downgrade your post.”

Fury and horror clouded Vegas’s gaze. She turned, dragging Heather along with her. She slammed out of Diadora’s office, straight past Genevieve and out into the corridor.

Vegas’s breath gasped out of her. She stopped and leaned against the wall. “She can’t do this! Diadora doesn’t own me. I only work here.”

“We’ll challenge it,” Heather said. “You’ve got Solan on your side. He won’t let you remain with Boros if you don’t want to.”

“Of course I don’t want to. I don’t want to be with any stupid Galaxar.” Vegas leaned over, her hands on her knees. “I can’t stay here and appeal this. I can’t risk Boros claiming me and taking me away on his ship. Once I’m on there, that’s it. I’ll never get away. He’ll probably chain me naked in the cargo hold and do whatever sick things he wants to.”

“What are you going to do?” Heather asked.

“Get out of here while I still can.”

Chapter 13

The brutality of Diadora’s behavior made Vegas shiver as she ran along the corridors with Heather. She’d always known Diadora was a cruel, cold-hearted bitch, but this was out there in the realms of insanely stupid and evil. There was no way this could happen. Diadora had no right to barter over Vegas’s freedom or who she mated with.

“I’m getting a stitch in my side.” Heather ran alongside Vegas as they headed to her quarters.

“You need to exercise more,” Vegas said.

“I force myself into an exercise pod once a week to limit muscle wastage. That’s all I can stomach.”

Vegas slowed to a fast walk, her thoughts spinning. How could she make this work? As soon as she left My Single Alien, she’d have no money, other than her savings. Where would she go? Somewhere Boros and Diadora couldn’t find her, that was a top priority.

“You really think we can leave?”

“I’m going to try.” Vegas slowed as they reached her quarters. “Listen, I don’t expect you to come with me. Diadora is pissed at you, but at least she’s not trading you off to some Galaxar. If you keep your head down and your nose clean, make sure you hit your targets, she’ll leave you alone and forget you were involved in this.”

“I’m not letting you head off into space on your own,” Heather said. “You have no idea what’s out there.”

“That’s just the problem. I absolutely do. I need to get to a hospitable planet. Find an alien race who’s not going to sell me, trade me, or eat me. I’ll find somewhere to hide, wait until the dust dies down, and then work out my next step.”

“You’ll need me by your side if you’re going to do that.”