Page 6 of Time Traveling Space Bastards
“According to the data, an atheist is someone who doesn’t believe in God or the gods. Not to be confused with an agnostic, who thinks it’s impossible to know if God does or doesn’t exist.”
“Cool. I’m an atheist, too, then,” Torrek said.
“Seriously? You never told me that,” Kuka said.
“I travel more than you do. We based our society around the writings of the Devouring Mother, but other planets have their own gods and beliefs. This planet probably does, too.”
“They do,” I said. “There are several religions and they all think they have it right. There are multiple flavors of the same religion. I’m not a god and I’m not a prophet. I’m just a really fucked-up girl trying to process everything. I don’t know what you want from me.”
I really didn’t. I based most of it on a brief encounter by my pool and then I just made up the rest. I didn’t have any answers for them. I was barely functioning myself most days.
“Hey, listen.Iknow you aren’t a god. I’m pretty sure Kuka and Enix have figured that out, too. But somehowyourbooksended up in a galaxy a million light years away that’s only accessible through a black hole. People used them and created a pretty amazing society that’s only just recently gone to shit,” Torrek said.
I didn’t know what it was about Torrek. He should have scared me. He could have ripped my throat out with his teeth or squashed my head like a grape, but he just always made me feel better.
“Listen,no onebuys my books. I don’t even make enough money off of them to buy a cup of coffee. I work at a bookstore and they won’t even stock them. I couldn’t tell you how they ended up on your planet.”
Kuka just smirked at me.
“Aren’t youdyingto know how that happened? It could be an interesting story.”
Actually, yeah. Finding out how my books ended up several million light years away was probably fascinating. It was definitely a lot more interesting than working for an asshole and ghosting guys every few months.
“We have to tell her,” Enix said.
“Tell me what?” I demanded.
“We don’t have all the holy texts from the Devouring Mother. We’re missing the last one. We know there’s a last one the fourth one ends in a certain way. It’s the final text that’s causing all the issues. Since we don’t have it, some people are trying to say they know what the Devouring Mother wants and they are willing to turn the planet into a war zone to get it.”
“So, you just need me to write it? I mean, I’ve got wicked writers’ block and some motivation issues since it’s not selling, but if you could really wire me all that money, I could do nothing but work on it.”
They were all looking at each other like they didn’t want to tell me something. I mean, they just told me my alien smut wastheir bible, so I couldn’t imagine what they thought was going to be too much for me at this point.
“I was able to connect to the satellites and access all the data on this planet when we crossed through the black hole and into this galaxy. I was able to link the names on the books to the girl by the pool and then eventually Baxter Holmes. Since we’re in a time machine, we can access future data, too. In two days, someone murders Baxter Holmes,” Enix said.
Well, fuck me.
Emotions were new to me. I wasn’t given that programming and my owner kept insisting I was defective because he thought I was having them, despite constantly being wiped to factory settings. I just didn’t like having sex all night with strangers.
But right now? I was pretty sure I was angry. I might even be what they called livid. It was interesting and tingled a little. She didn’t like being called the Devouring Mother and asked us to call her Baxter. Which we had no problem doing.
The exchange rate between our planet and theirs was pretty vast. Kuka’s parents gave the siblings equal amounts of money to battle for the throne and Kuka used most of his to figure out time travel. We really didn’t have much left in terms of our planet, but Baxter said on this one, four million dollars was a lot of money.
It would be enough for her to hide here while we kept her safe and she wouldn’t have to leave for work or food. She must have trusted us a little because when I needed heraccount information to send the money, she just waved her hand and directed me over to an archaic computer. She said her credentials were saved, and I’d just need to press a button.
That wasn’t what had me tingling in what I was sure was anger.
“What’s wrong? Can cyborgs drink? You look like you need this,” she said, sliding the bottle she’d been guzzling from since she saw us.
I honestly didn’t know. We didn’t need to eat or drink, but one of my owner’s friends brought his Enix to the brothel to work with me one night and she insisted we could get high and drunk like the skin jobs.
Now was as good a time as any to test that theory. The clear liquid burned its way down my throat as I swallowed. I was slightly warm when I set it down.
“This is racist!” I said, jamming my finger at the screen.
“The bank log in page?”
“Why does it need to know if I’m a robot? Is this planet so backwards that cyborgs aren’t allowed money? How are they supposed to pay for clothes? There’s no option for yes, either, like we should know better!”
