Page 72 of Sold to the Alien Smugglers

Maybe that’s precisely why Lord Oblog summoned them here, to this cavernous throne room. Maybe he invited Lord Qavar to watch the three Aurelians get cut down by the robots and Bullfrogs – to put on a show of ruthlessness and strength.

That’s why he insisted the Aurelians bring their little slaves. Either we’ll be cut down alongside them, or taken as spoils of victory after the fact. Tessa and I might not have escaped the aquarium of a Toad or Bullfrog after all.

“We donotlie!”

Marcel’s voice is cold and icy as it echoes across the throne room. Three proud, powerful Aurelians face down a room full of Toads and Bullfrogs, but I sense Oblong scored the first victory by attacking Marcel where he was most vulnerable.

His pride.

Worry chills my blood like ice water. When I was a little girl, I’d been raised on stories in which good always overcame evil, and the heroes always emerged victorious. Out in the real universe, I quickly learned that good doesn’t always win.

I learned that lesson the hard way – when I witnessed my best friend get skewered by that sadistic Bullfrog. The slimy, disgusting Toad species will always triumph over good if they have sufficient numbers; and right now, Lord Oblog has ensured they’ve got that advantage.

If Marcel pushes too hard, Oblog might choose to make an example of us – if he hasn’t decided to already.

Lord Oblog slowly stands. It’s a disgusting sight – to see those spindly, out of proportion legs curl out from beneath his bulk and lift his gelatinous body into the air.

He pads down the steps from his throne – his wide, webbed feet slapping obscenely with each step he takes. The Toad dignitary waddles forward until he’s just five feet in front of us – dwarfed by the three powerful Aurelans, and easily within range of Marcel’s Orb-Blade.

I saw how quickly the Aurelians can snatch those weapons from their waist. I remember how it had taken less than a second for Marcel to send the head of that Toad guard spinning across the room. Lord Oblog must be aware that he’s within killing range – and yet his quivering body stands at ease, and his bulbous eyes show no hint of concern.

The Toad stands an inch shorter than even me, at the very least – but from Oblog’s body language, it’s clear he feels like a Titan in this throne room. Every eye on him – including the protective, red glare of the Sentinels.

I glance left and right. Oblog’s Bullfrog guards don’t appear to share their master’s nonchalance. The powerful Bullfrogs tense as their Lord stands in the circle of vulnerability – readying themselves to avenge their fallen leader if one of the Aurelians makes a move.

The AI Sentinels – ever cold and emotionless – similarly train their gun-arms at us. I brace myself, knowing that I’ll see a flash of light the moment they fire – but I probably won’t even hear the gunshots that tear me to shreds.

“Lie?”

Oblog looks up at Marcel, and from his demeanor, it’s as if the Toad Lord feels he stands eye-to-eye with the towering Aurelian.

“No, you don’t lie, proud Aurelian,” Oblog gurgles joyfully. “Lying is beneath your kind. But you do not tell me thetruth. So, now, tell me plainly…”

The question is only half-answered when the universe suddenly seems to freeze. It’s as if no one dares utter a sound. Every eye in the room is focused on Lord Oblog.

“…have youfuckedher?”

My breath catches. I look up, meeting Oblog’s eyes in complete defiance of how a slave should act in front of her masters.

I’m terrified to discover Oblog already staring right at me – his bulbous eyes narrowed into glistening little slits. The smug smile is gone from his fat lips.

The triad of Aurelians remain silent – stunned by the brazen question. As if not expecting an answer, Lord Oblog turns his words to me.

Too late, I lower my eyes – but the damage has already been done.

“You make eye contact with me as if you don’t consider yourselfproperty,” Oblog sneers. “That’s all the proof I need.”

The sadistic smile begins to creep its way back across Oblog’s disgusting face.

“You act as if you have not been treated as property… Notyet.”

Not yet?

Oblog turns, exposing his back to the three Aurelians. To make himself so vulnerable in front of three of the deadliest warriors in the universe is the ultimate demonstration of his superior position.

With a gurgle, the Toad Lord begins climbing back up the stairs to his throne, his body quivering under the exertion.

Across the room, the Sentinels slowly lower their weapons – those black gun barrels sinking an inch lower with each wobbly step Oblog takes. By the time he reaches his throne, the Sentinels have their weapons by their sides; but I know it would take less than a heartbeat for them to be raised and aimed again.

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