The General part 11

“You are thinking too much.”

I look up at Malik, who is helping me with the last bucket. My tongue is still burnt from the soup as I reply, “Yeah, I…”

“Pay attention before you trip,” he cuts me off. “You are clearly not the best at balance.”

“I guess you saw me dancing,” I mumble.

“I would not call that dancing. It seemed like a metal breakdown.”

Did Malik just crack a joke? I didn’t know these guys had a sense of humor.

“I know that I’m not graceful like the Entertainers. I’m only a cleaner.”

He doesn’t disagree with me. He remains silent, as if done with the conversation. I don’t want to be done, though. I’m getting dangerously addicted to Malik’s companionship. The General is too intense. When he’s around, I’m so focused on remembering to breathe that enjoying time with him becomes impossible.

Although Malik is practically a brick wall with small cracks that allow conversation, he’s something. I’m not alone when I’m with him, and he doesn’t seem interested in hurting me with his words or body.

“Do you think The Headmistress expects me to continue practicing dancing?”

“It is not within my duties to keep track of your responsibilities. Why don’t you figure this out yourself by asking The Headmistress or The General?”

This isn’t a joke. It’s a blunt, callous answer in a typical Master fashion.

“Er- I’d rather avoid facing The General.”

Maybe The General has confined in his men why his eye is constantly on me. Maybe Malik will tell me.

“How long have you known The General?”

“Fifteen planetary cycles.”

Fifteen years? They’ve been through many challenging times together. The General must have discussed his odd interest in me by now.

“Oh. You’ve been friends with him for a while, then.”

“Masters have no friends.”

I dare to peek under my lashes to see if he looks agitated by my probing.

“But life is boring without friends,” I counter. I would know, because I’ve been bored for a long time. “What do you Masters discuss all day?”

“Work. Now stop asking. I know nothing of The General or what lives in his mind.”

There’s that agitation I was expecting.

He dumps the last bucket, so I thank him.

“Get back to dancing.”

I sigh, because I know he’s right. I need to practice for the ceremony I didn’t sign up for.

To my delight, the Entertainers are dismissed as I approach their formation. I’m walking away when a red leg swipes in front of me. I fall on my face like a cracked egg, and the Entertainers giggle as they walk around me.

So the bullying begins. It tastes dry and earthy, and then I realize it’s because I have a mouthful of dirt.

After wiping my face, I stand. It hurts more between my legs now that I suffered through the dancing exercise and fall, but it will only get worse in the morning. I should enjoy this level of pain while I still have it.

Hours later, I’m done with work. When I get home, I find my sewing needles and cloth, and then I rush to clean myself up. I take my dress off and gently scrub the carnage between my legs. My teeth are gritted as I wash myself, my back facing the entrance of my tent.

I snap my head back when I hear a floosh. My gritted teeth separate and let out a shriek from the depths of hell, because Malik is standing there with surprise on his face.

If this were any occasion, I would’ve celebrated that I got him to show something other than irritation or boredom.

He drops the tent flap and disappears behind it

“That was unintentional. I did not know you were nude,” he says as I scramble to pull a new dress on.

“You don’t call out before entering?” I nearly cry.

The last man that saw my hairy, ungroomed body was The General. I hate that Malik was added to the list. It’s embarrassing. I’m very insecure about my neglected body, and I displayed it to The General only to survive.

“I do not ask permission to enter common areas. Masters do not care about nudity among each other. Neither do Entertainers.”

“You can come in now. I’m covered.”

He takes another moment to push inside. I’m sitting on my floor mat, fussing with my needle. I’ll just pretend like this didn’t happen.

“Is nudity sacred to your species? If so, I apologize for dishonoring you.”

I look up at him so sharply that I prick myself with the needle. I don’t react to the pain, though. Shock inhibits that reaction.

Malik just said something very considerate. He acknowledged that I’m from a different person, and he’s trying to respect that as if my culture matters.

No one ever does that for me on Zolano.

Suddenly overwhelmed with emotion, so I wipe my damped eyes. “Forget it. So, uh, why don’t you sit and learn these stitching techniques?”

His big, burly body sits across from mine, filling my tent in a way I never could.

We don’t talk about him seeing me indecently. We just stitch the night away. Malik lost patience many times because the needle was too small for his bulky fingers, but I promised I would find him a new one for the next night.

Five nights later, we’re much more comfortable with each other. It empowers me to teach him, and I think he likes it, too, although he grunts the whole night.

On night six, he doesn’t show up. I wait for him for a few hours before finally caving into sleep. I won’t lie. Although we barely talk and it’s foolish to get attached, I enjoy his presence.

Malik shows up the seventh night with a satchel over his shoulder, and wearing more fur than usual.

Dread stitches my guts.

“I came to return the needles you let me borrow,” he tells me.

“Where are you going?”

“Away. The General has ordered me to another station.”

There’s no sadness in his expression. This is just another job for him, and I was another acquaintance.

“Oh. Do you want to leave?”

“No. This unexpected move is inconvenient, but The General is determined to have me re-stationed.”

“Why?”

I have a creeping suspicion.

“I do not know.”

Oh, but I do. Throughout the week, I’ve been seen in public with Malik as he helped me with the buckets, and we sometimes practiced stitching outside my tent for better lighting.

Is The General jealous? Is that why he’s taking the closest thing I’ve had to a friend since I landed in this world?

"Malik. Take me to The General.”

“He is preoccupied at the moment.”

I purse my lips before coming to a decision. “Tell him I want him to ride me.”

If I have to prostitute myself to keep Malik from leaving, then so be it.