Chapter 20

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Jim

I never like being pushy, but this cyborg (I eventually found out his name was Omar) had answers for me, and I didn't hesitate to ask every tiny question I had.

But Omar didn't have all the answers, either. All he said was that Silver had come here begging for help on his mechanical leg.

"Well, I know why." I thought. It actually kind of made me laugh.

Anyways, Omar said he was polite for the most part. He paid them more than fairly, and he entertained the whole village with stories about...

Me.

Of course, the tales were kind if hammed up, and left out all the parts about the pirates. But I seemed to be kind if admired here. The positive attention is actually very strange.

Omar agreed to give the crew and I supplies, and to fix the ship, for free. I actually tried begging him to take some form of payment, but he declined every time.

After we finished our negotiations, Omar quickly changed the subjects. He gave me some alcoholic drink as he talked to me about Saytee. Now, this was getting strange. What business had he about Saytee and I?

He pulled a big box-like machine onto the table we sat at. "This gizmo," he started, "can do much; much more than act as a simple radar, as you know. It knows who you are by your wave scans." He informed me. I waited for him to finish his speech.

"We could tell the robot didn't like us," he said with an obvious tone, and I laughed and took a drink of the alcohol. It was very sour, and had an aftertaste of oranges. I thought it seemed okay.

I wondered if he was just joking, because you didn't need fancy equipment to tell BEN's thoughts on this place.

"We could tell you were fatherless." I took a huge swig of the orange drink, feeling stressed just thinking about that. This was starting to get personal, but I didn't intervene.

"But we could also tell there was something special between you and that girl." He hinted, glancing at me now. What kind of mind reading technology was this? It's actually kind if freaky.

I made a face that said "so...?" and Omar shrugged, then chuckled. "Falles du sharst." He said simply as he raised his glass to me. I looked at the table and laughed, understanding the phrase.

It meant, "Drink to Love."

And I did.

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