Or! Could you handle these too?”
Tiva’s thumb and forefinger stubbornly struggled under the weight of Limen’s dirty clothes, her other hand preoccupied with the smell.
“Sure thing, Ti,” Orem replied as a vacuum tube dutifully sucked the stinking pile out of her hands.
After a few clanks and crunches, Orem chimed in again. “Miss, Limen’s personal effects are now in the retrieval drawer.”
“Thanks, Or. That’ll be all.”
“Yes miss.”
Tiva knew she really shouldn’t, but who ever really listens to those thoughts? She pressed the release and the drawer popped out, revealing nothing but a storage drive and a red-stained knife.
She lifted the knife to her face, quickly recoiling as she recognized the same stench Limen had emitted since she met him just minutes ago.
She stashed the drive in the tiny convenience pocket in her leggings and prepared the knife for confrontation.
“What’s your story?” she called out to the showering man, hoping against hope to hear something to assuage her fears.
Orem chimed in, “Ti, would you like me to unmute you?”
Tiva rolled her eyes in frustration. “Yes, Or. I’d like to talk to our new guest.”
Tiva straightened herself, and called out again, trying not to tremble with shock. “So, what’s your story?”
“Not much to tell really,” she heard over the din of shower sounds. “I was just out for a supply run when I ran into a patrol. I ran, and ended up here.”
“Weird. I’d think you were homeless with smell you were emanating there,” she trembled.
“Smell? Oh, yeah. Well, you know how it is. Once you’re cooped up inside long enough, some of your cleanliness habits are the first to go. Sorry. Didn’t know I’d be getting up so close and personal with anybody today.”
Tiva shivered at the flirty tone, her grip tightening on the knife.
“Why did they chase you all the way into this building? I’ve never seen that before.”
Limen responded, “I don’t know. They’ve been getting bolder in the last month or so. Haven’t you noticed? Do you ever go outside?”
A towel disappeared over the wall and the privacy screen retracted, leaving Limen’s muscles glistening in the sterile light. Limen thrust his hands forward defensively.
“Woh! Woh! What are you doing with that thing?” Limen slowly backed toward the wall.
Tiva, tried despite herself to look cool and collected. The interrogation in her head failed to materialize. “Get out!,” she screeched, brandishing the knife.
“No wait. I can explain. I just thought it’d scare you if I told you about it right away.”
“Get out!” She swung at him with the knife.
Limen backed into a wall and lowered himself to the floor, hands remaining in front of him.
She bore down upon him with the blade. “Get out of my house, you murderer!”
“No! You’ve got it all wrong,” he cowered. “Let me tell you what happened.”
As Tiva hovered over him, blade ready, he began to speak.
Bryan Appley 