Chapter 4 #2
Banjo laughs, the sound bright and loud. I narrow my eyes. That’s not an answer. “I swear, these ones are my last clean pair,” he promises. I still head over to the storage container where I keep my cleaning supplies and pull out a bottle of disinfectant spray. Banjo’s laughter grows even louder.
“Here.” I give him a moment to put his instrument down before I chuck the spray at him.
He catches it easily, the muscles in his forearm flexing in a way I pretend not to notice.
“Spray wherever you sat while I try to find you something to wear.” I’ll have to do some digging.
Banjo likely doesn’t realize how much smaller I am than him.
I spent a lot of time and money perfecting an outfit that makes me look broader, taller, and more intimidating.
It helps sell the persona and business I’ve built for myself.
“Yes, sir.” I can tell Banjo is being facetious, but the response sends a shiver from the top of my spine all the way down to my tail, which twitches erratically in response. Okay, I’ll just add that to the growing list of things I’m trying to ignore right now.
The sound of the spray bottle deploying fills the room as I push the button to reveal the underbed storage. In the back is an oversized sweatshirt I commandeered during one of my last trips to Earth. It has a faded print of a giant wolf howling at Earth’s moon on the front. “Here. Try this.”
Banjo grins as he takes the sweatshirt from me, looking it over before pulling it over his head.
“Makes me feel right at home. I got a big ol’ blanket on my bed with a wolf on it.
Made Mamaw buy it for me for Christmas when I was just a kid.
” The sweatshirt fits him, and with the boxers it's almost a passable outfit. “Thanks, Tav. I appreciate it.”
“Just try not to ruin it,” I reply, heading toward the kitchen to prepare something for dinner.
There’s not much room for any real cooking.
Most of my food intake comes from meal replacement beverages or dehydrated nutrition packs.
I tug open the top cabinet, looking through the stock of human food I keep on hand for when I’m traveling with my bounties.
If they die on the way back to Earth, I don’t get paid, so I’ve learned some tricks to keep them alive.
“What do you want?” I hold up two options to Banjo, and his eyes go comically wide as he stares at the blue box in my right hand.
“Y’all got real Kraft mac 'n’ cheese up here?
!” he asks, grabbing the box from me to look at it more closely.
“Dang, this is the good stuff too. Mamaw didn’t ever buy the name brand.
She always said it was a rip off and that the generic brand didn’t taste no different.
” He turns those big, pleading eyes back to me. “Can we make this? I’ll share!”
“Whatever,” I say on an exhale, attempting to be dismissive about the whole thing even though I very much enjoy the meal he’s picked out.
The other option, which is also noodles that are rehydrated in water, is good too, but those noodles are long and cumbersome to eat.
I shove the packet back into the cabinet before moving to gather the rest of the ingredients.
“Wait, don’t you need like, milk and stuff?” Banjo asks. He sits facing me in one of the two stools at the dining table, watching me curiously.
“Yes, but I have appropriate substitutes.” The milk is easy enough, since they sell small pouches that are shelf stable. Butter is just fat, which there are many substitutes for. “I’ve been assured many times that it tastes identical.”
“Y’all get a lot of humans ‘round here?”
“I’ve met quite a few, yes.” I find it easier to talk to Banjo when I don’t have to look at him. Having my hands and mind occupied with preparing the meal, as simple as it may be, helps as well. I pull out a pot, fill it with water, and set it on the hot plate to boil.
“Humans hire me to locate and return other humans who have been selected for the Human Relocation Program. It’s how I found you on Hurcaria.” Having finished everything for the moment, I turn to look at him. “I’ve been hired to return a human that we believe was on the ship with you.”
Banjo cocks his head. I watch him process all this information. “Wow. You’re like, a real life space pirate,” he breathes. The look he gives me is full of admiration. “That’s so cool that you rescue humans like that.”
I snort, crossing my arms over my chest as my tail wraps around my ankle. It’s the only way I can keep it from flicking around. “I don’t do it for free,” I remind him. “Many have said my fee is exorbitant.”
“That means a lot, right?” He pauses, smile brightening when I nod. “That makes sense. Seems dangerous, so you should charge a lot of money.” He spins on the stool as he takes another moment to think. “Who are y’all lookin’ for? Maybe I met ‘em.”
“His name is Benjamin.”
A throat clears before Stells joins the conversation. “Our target's name is Remington, Captain.” I wave off the correction, but before I can say anything, Banjo jumps up.
“I totally know that guy! He was my roommate!”
Now that catches my full attention. I ignore the bubbling water behind me for the moment.
I doubt Banjo can provide information with any real value, although being able to identify Remington could be useful.
I have a picture, yes, but I don’t think it’s that recent.
Plus, humans do silly things like change their hair, making them harder for me to tell apart.
Banjo might not have that problem. “Do you know where they’re taking him? ”
Banjo’s excitement quickly dims. His shoulders slump forward as he slides back down onto the stool.
“Uh, no. They didn’t give him the chip thing.
” He taps the place behind his right ear.
Must be referring to the translator chip.
“He thought they said he was gon’ be a bed warmer. Is that a real thing?”
“Stells?” I call, finally turning to pour the noodles into the boiling water.
“Running an analysis now,” Stells chirps in reply.
“Is that enough for y’all to find him?” Banjo asks. “I’m real sorry. I guess I shoulda tried to get more information.”
“It’s fine,” I promise him. There’s no way he could have known he’d need it.
“We have a tracking device on the Triumph, so we’re able to closely monitor its movements.
Stells can use what you shared to help us determine which planets are worth stopping to check.
Being able to narrow it down will save us time. ”
“So…” Banjo trails off, and the silence lasts an uncomfortable amount of time. I continue preparing the food.
Banjo doesn’t speak again until I sit a bowl of the creamy orange noodles in front of him. He seems uncharacteristically nervous, his normal confidence gone. “What are you gon’ do with me?”
Oh. No wonder he’s nervous. I’d forgotten I hadn’t filled him in on what I decided, mostly because I preferred to keep my cards close to my chest. “We have one stop to make before picking up Remington,” I explain.
“I picked up a delivery on Earth that we need to drop off on Qauvela. If you behave, I’ll let you assist me. ”
I glare across the table at him. “But if you annoy me, I’ll put you up for auction as soon as we arrive in Qauvela.
Pretty humans like you go for tens of thousands of credits there…
though you won’t be anywhere near as pretty when they’re done with you.
” I take a bite of the noodles, forcing myself to keep a straight face.
It’s hard when cheese is just so enjoyable. “If you’re even still alive, that is.”
Banjo swallows thickly, glancing down at his bowl. I can tell he has questions, probably a hundred of them by this point, but he doesn’t ask any of them. Good. He’s learning. “And after that?”
I sigh loudly to make sure he knows exactly how much of an inconvenience he is.
“Then, I could use your assistance in identifying Remington and getting him on board the ship. After that, I’ll return to Earth with him to claim the other half of the bounty.
And I suppose, since I’ll already be there, I can drop you off as well.
” That perks Banjo up immediately. He grins at me before shoveling macaroni into his mouth.
“I can be real useful, promise,” he mutters around a mouthful of food. Even that is somehow endearing coming from him. How annoying. “Mamaw taught me how to cook and do some cleanin’. She always said there ain’t no way no grandson of hers was gon’ depend on some man for everything.”
He finally pauses for a moment to swallow. “I can make some pretty fancy stuff too, you know? Like, when I make this,” he motions with his fork to his bowl of food, “at home, sometimes I crunch up some Doritos on top.”
I’d stopped paying attention somewhere in the middle of that definitely-too-long story, but he draws me back in when he mentions Doritos.
“You put them on top of the macaroni?” I ask, momentarily astounded by his ingenuity.
Maybe I’ve been underestimating this silly human. He might be clever after all.
“Mhm.” He nods, looking quite proud of himself, as he should. “Too bad y’all ain’t got any.”
“Wait right here.” I leap off my stool, nearly running into the cockpit to search for the bag of chips I was snacking on earlier. Thank the stars I didn’t finish all of them. In moments, I’m returning to the living area with my prize. “You just crumble them on top?”
Banjo nods again, grabbing a handful from the bag when I toss it on the table between us.
I watch as he carefully crushes the chips over his remaining meal.
My tail flicks back and forth, betraying my nearly uncontrollable level of excitement.
I haven’t been this enthusiastic about anything since… well, I honestly can’t remember.
Banjo leans across the table to sprinkle some of the crumbs onto my bowl as well. I stare down at the bowl with wonder. “Go on then,” he says, motioning for me to take the first bite.
I glance up just in time to see his tongue wrap around his pointer finger, licking up the cheese dust that’s turning his fingertips orange.
This time my eyes go back to my bowl for a completely different reason.
That should not be as erotic as it is. I’m fairly certain Banjo is entirely unaware the effect he’s having on me.
I take a bite from my Dorito-topped bowl, my eyes going wide. The crunch on top of the creamy noodles is nothing short of incredible. I let out a pleased moan, eyes fluttering shut as I savor every moment of it.
“Told you,” Banjo hums. Now that his fingers are clean—a shame, really—he goes back to eating his own meal. “See? Humans ain’t completely useless. I bet I can help y’all out plenty ‘round here, if you’ll let me.”
He was right. Humans are undoubtedly more useful than I ever thought.