Page 82 of Exiles on Earth

She lifts the mug of tea. It smells good, rich with a sweet spice we found in a neighbouring solar system. “May we have some more of whatever this is?”

“Chai. Yes.” The Lautostock spins and sprints out.

El-len flushes and then waves me to sit next to her. I take the seat, but it’s built for females, and creaks warningly under my weight.

El-len shakes her head after the Lautostock. “This feels likesome mix between a dream and a holiday. A hotel with a hot spring in my room, the comfiest pillows, a huge wardrobe, and then…look, robots zipping around!”

She points to the robot on the track I saw before. “Indeed. Robots are a rare sight.”

“Oh?”

“They’re a legacy from the time when our planet warred with itself. They’re expensive to maintain and represent an enormous investment of resources. They’re only to be used when clones can’t be, such as dropping off exiled clones on a hostile planet. All the dangerous work should be completed by clones to spare the robots.”

El-len’s hands clasp her half empty chai cup close. “You mean… they use clones before robots? Living beings before machines?”

“Of course. Tubers are cheap to replace by comparison. All we need is synthetic milapaste rather than rare metals.”

She bangs her mug on the table so hard, chai sloshes out the side. “Seriously, the priorities of this place.”

It’s my world, my reality. I can’t question or challenge it. “Have you eaten?”

She blinks, draining her cup. “Not yet, only this.”

“Then I’ll get you some food.”

She nods as another cup wobbles our way, balanced by the Lautostock. “I’ll be fine with just this. Thank you so much,” she greets the clone, who nearly faints.

“Yes, thank you.” I take the cup from him. “You can go back to your purpose now.”

His gaze darts from me to her. “All-Mother’s blessings be with you,” he whispers as he slides away.

He’ll become another clone counting on me to win the Games. Perhaps he thinks El-len called this private meeting to help her choose, but I know better. She’s not going to choose me, and the All-Mother’s plan will fail because my heartsaren’t committed anymore, they belong to this beautiful human.

Regardless, my Gerverstock instincts push me to try. I can’t give up. Failure isn’t an option.

“Shara’s nice,” El-len says. “She has a luxury apartment. It’s a little overwhelming here?—”

“Let me serve you,” I say, before I lose my nerve.

“Oh?” Her voice is light but confused. The uncertainty in her eyes hits me like a blow to the chest, leaving me breathless.

I tear my gaze away, looking at the top of the trees. There! My quarry.

Standing, I say, “I’ll return momentarily.”

But she stands anyway, her steps crunching behind me, hands around her mug. “Where are we going?”

I lead her deeper into the garden, where the plants grow unchecked, vines twisting and leaves sprawling toward the sky.

I point to the crowns above us. “Anyanas.”

“You mean ananas? Bananas?” Her gasp ripples across my scales like a warm breeze, leaving them tingling. “I knew they came from another planet! They grow upside down and everything!”

Her wonder fills me with pride as I approach the tree, its bark rough against my hands. I leap, grabbing a low branch and swinging myself upward. The trunk shudders under my weight, but it holds, and I climb higher, legs gripping tightly as I ascend. My muscles burn as I reach for the clusters of fruit. The scent of them is sweet and sharp, a perfect offering.

Sliding down, I use the ridged bark to control my descent, every bump jolting through me. When I land, her wide eyes are fixed on me, her lips parted slightly, cheeks glowing with excitement.

Wonderful. “Let me wash these for you in the stream.”