Yeah, I’ve come to terms with it. I’m not going offworld to do anything noble, like teach aliens how to speak human languages, or to plant trees, build houses, or pass out blankets and water during emergencies. I’m going offworld to go live in the house of some rich Blorgnathian who’ll spend the next five years licking my face.
“These may be kaput,” Mrs. Santi said, patting her thighs, “but thanks to you, I’ve got these.” She made fists with her hands and raised her arms in the traditional flexing-biceps pose.
She immediately dropped her hands to the wheels of her chair and pulled forward, propelling herself toward Jim.