her
whom
to do
what
? After a moment of confusion, Rigel picked up on the cue she was giving him. “I certainly hope so! I have no objection to my concubine helping out in the kitchens by day, starborn, but I naturally expect to enjoy her services at night.”
The entire audience exploded in shrill titters.
Muphrid shuddered. “Oh, it is impossible! It will take a hundred years to train this tweenling. Rigel Halfling, you must not
say
such things! But, very well, I promise. Get her out of my sight, Senator.”
Mira flashed her “owner” a sickly smile and followed the portly man through the door, which closed behind them before Rigel could see what lay beyond it. Assuming that she was planning to cooperate until she had gathered more information, he could only hope to match her courage.
“What exactly happens if the court does
not
grant me status, starborn?”
“Then you’ll have to wear clothes!” Nashira jeered, as if that were a threat.
“Let’s see if there is any hope at all,” Muphrid said. “I told you to strip, boy.”
Rigel balanced on one leg at a time to discard his boot and sock, and then dropped his jeans, leaving himself dressed in nothing but the rubber band in his hair, Saiph, and his jockeyshorts, which were white and clean, but too snug for comfort under the present circumstances. He would have preferred to be wearing his loose boxer shorts with the pink cupids, which he’d purchased for a dollar in a thrift shop.
“Yes, he isn’t a boy,” remarked Dabih, a female with bluish hair.
“Obviously,” agreed purple-eyed Nashira. “For a tweenling, he’s not bad below the neck. He doesn’t have girly nipples or an ugly birth scar on his belly.”
“What would you know about those?” Alniyat demanded, provoking an angry blush on Nashira and hoots of laughter from the male starfolk.
“He’s a runt, though,” Gacrux said.
“And you’re a fatso.”
“Fatso?” the big elf bellowed over the sniggers.
Playground talk! Rigel trotted over to the water and splashed in. As soon as it was over his knees he plunged in deeper and started to swim. He had been a good swimmer back on Earth, but in moments he was overtaken by what seemed like a pod of dolphins, all streaming through the water far faster than he could manage. Admittedly his cuts stung so he wasn’t at his best, but even the women left him feeling like a barnacle. He had been a freak on Earth, and he was a freak here, wherever this was. There was nowhere in the universe where he’d truly feel at home.
Chapter 7
H aving shown up Rigel’s incompetent swimming, the starborn grew bored of him and returned to their horseplay beneath the waterfalls. Convinced that this fairyland must have more interesting things to offer, he paddled back to the meadow and went to see what lay on the other side of the big door. It wouldn’t open for him when he tried the handles, and when he walked around it he discovered a blank stone wall.
Baffled, he turned to the flowers and shrubs. Some were almost familiar—a daffodil tree was certainly a good idea—and others were totally weird. Various shrubs bore flowers like fried eggs, tiny pink horses, or red mouths that smiled when you looked in their direction. A few had gold and silver roses. Some were too bizarre to be anything but deliberate inventions, and yet even those were inhabited by large, multicolored insects and spiders. He had truly been transported to a completely different world, like Alice, or Thomas Covenant, or Wendy Darling.
Then he noticed that Senator was waiting patiently by the door, holding a shimmering length of what looked like shrink-wrap but felt like the finest wool when Rigel wound it aroundhis hips. It stayed there comfortably on its own, glittering in the sunlight, just on the respectable side of translucent.
With a pained expression, the servant gathered up Rigel’s discarded clothes. “Someone is ready to cut your hair, if this is a convenient time,
whom
to do
what
? After a moment of confusion, Rigel picked up on the cue she was giving him. “I certainly hope so! I have no objection to my concubine helping out in the kitchens by day, starborn, but I naturally expect to enjoy her services at night.”
The entire audience exploded in shrill titters.
Muphrid shuddered. “Oh, it is impossible! It will take a hundred years to train this tweenling. Rigel Halfling, you must not
say
such things! But, very well, I promise. Get her out of my sight, Senator.”
Mira flashed her “owner” a sickly smile and followed the portly man through the door, which closed behind them before Rigel could see what lay beyond it. Assuming that she was planning to cooperate until she had gathered more information, he could only hope to match her courage.
“What exactly happens if the court does
not
grant me status, starborn?”
“Then you’ll have to wear clothes!” Nashira jeered, as if that were a threat.
“Let’s see if there is any hope at all,” Muphrid said. “I told you to strip, boy.”
Rigel balanced on one leg at a time to discard his boot and sock, and then dropped his jeans, leaving himself dressed in nothing but the rubber band in his hair, Saiph, and his jockeyshorts, which were white and clean, but too snug for comfort under the present circumstances. He would have preferred to be wearing his loose boxer shorts with the pink cupids, which he’d purchased for a dollar in a thrift shop.
“Yes, he isn’t a boy,” remarked Dabih, a female with bluish hair.
“Obviously,” agreed purple-eyed Nashira. “For a tweenling, he’s not bad below the neck. He doesn’t have girly nipples or an ugly birth scar on his belly.”
“What would you know about those?” Alniyat demanded, provoking an angry blush on Nashira and hoots of laughter from the male starfolk.
“He’s a runt, though,” Gacrux said.
“And you’re a fatso.”
“Fatso?” the big elf bellowed over the sniggers.
Playground talk! Rigel trotted over to the water and splashed in. As soon as it was over his knees he plunged in deeper and started to swim. He had been a good swimmer back on Earth, but in moments he was overtaken by what seemed like a pod of dolphins, all streaming through the water far faster than he could manage. Admittedly his cuts stung so he wasn’t at his best, but even the women left him feeling like a barnacle. He had been a freak on Earth, and he was a freak here, wherever this was. There was nowhere in the universe where he’d truly feel at home.
Chapter 7
H aving shown up Rigel’s incompetent swimming, the starborn grew bored of him and returned to their horseplay beneath the waterfalls. Convinced that this fairyland must have more interesting things to offer, he paddled back to the meadow and went to see what lay on the other side of the big door. It wouldn’t open for him when he tried the handles, and when he walked around it he discovered a blank stone wall.
Baffled, he turned to the flowers and shrubs. Some were almost familiar—a daffodil tree was certainly a good idea—and others were totally weird. Various shrubs bore flowers like fried eggs, tiny pink horses, or red mouths that smiled when you looked in their direction. A few had gold and silver roses. Some were too bizarre to be anything but deliberate inventions, and yet even those were inhabited by large, multicolored insects and spiders. He had truly been transported to a completely different world, like Alice, or Thomas Covenant, or Wendy Darling.
Then he noticed that Senator was waiting patiently by the door, holding a shimmering length of what looked like shrink-wrap but felt like the finest wool when Rigel wound it aroundhis hips. It stayed there comfortably on its own, glittering in the sunlight, just on the respectable side of translucent.
With a pained expression, the servant gathered up Rigel’s discarded clothes. “Someone is ready to cut your hair, if this is a convenient time,
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