M: Monstrous Mash and Motorbike Missionaries

This is a continuous story.  You can start HERE at A.  You may also find all of the chapters in one place on this PAGE.

Monstrous Mash and Motorbike Missionaries

The Great Orator announced that the rest of the Knights of the Order of Knitting would rendezvous with the fleet in the next couple of days.  After that, they would all travel together to the rebel base.  It sounded like a solid enough plan.  Not that Adam had much of a choice.  If he didn’t stay where he was, he’d have no choice but to sit alone at the fringe of everything he’d ever known until he died.

Still, even with his lack of options, Adam couldn’t deny that some things were getting better.  Layla seemed to take his complaints to heart, though he felt guilty about snapping at her the way he did.  He knew which part of his anatomy contributed most to his reaction.  Had the chemical castration proceeded as planned, he’d never have reacted like that.

The next morning, Layla was waiting for him outside the door to his quarters.  “Would you like to have breakfast with me?”  She actually smiled as she made the invitation.

Adam swallowed as a solid mass seemed to appear in his throat.  He definitely didn’t like this new affect she had on him.  “Sure.  As long as my dignity isn’t going to be the main course.”

She slid her arm through his.  “I promise I’ll be nice.”

Is she planning something? Adam wondered.  Or is she actually being nice for the sake of being nice?

The galley on the Vaaldeen flag ship was several times larger than Layla and George’s little ship.  It was filled with hundreds of Vaaldeen crewmembers and a handful of other species.  A steady background hum filled the space as people engaged in meaningless chatter before heading off to their morning posts.

Once they had their breakfast of gray nutrient mash and a greenish tinted protein drink, the two of them sat at an empty table together.  “You know,” Layla commented as she stirred the mash, “the Vaaldeen people actually consider this garbage to be the finest cuisine.”

Adam’s lip curled.  “Suddenly my own cooking doesn’t seem so bad.”

She laughed, though she didn’t say anything in response.  In fact, she stared at her gastrointestinally insulting breakfast, stirring it so that the film that kept trying to form over the top broke around her spoon.  The silence lasted so long, in fact, that Adam even considered taking a bite of his own repulsive food just to avoid feeling awkward.  When Layla finally spoke, she sounded apologetic.  “I think your trip to Jupiter Station proved that you’re brave and trustworthy.  So maybe I should tell you about how I ended up working with the rebels.  You wanted to know when we first met, and I probably owe you that.”

“I’d love to know, but I don’t feel like you owe me anything,” Adam said.  “You saved my life.”  Plus my manhood, he added silently.

She shrugged.  “If we’re going to be friends, I should tell you anyway.  It all started when I started working for the Motorbike Missionaries.”



Proceed to entry N.