“Don’t leave, Jeska,” said a pleading voice above her.
She craned her neck to look at Prnei, who was dark green with fear. He stood on a section of the ceiling the clouds had lowered for him.
“You don’t need to worry,” she said, lying. “I’ll be fine.”
“You may die,” Prnei said.
“Listen,” Jeska said trying her best to sound confident. “You could come with me. Daniel might bring his two friends and that means —”
“I will not. It is shameful.”
Jeska sighed. The others had said the same.
Initially Prnei hadn’t wanted to help her at all — until she “confided” in him that human beings could die from boredom.
Not only that, Jeska said, she was “dangerously close to the boredom-death” before she even arrived on Stuck Station.
Ever since then he’d helped her out.
Just as Trak could not pick up on sarcasm, Prnei had trouble understanding when beings were lying.
“Then, goodbye, Prnei.” she said. “And don't worry, I'll visit sometime."
"That would be nice."
Jeska wished Prnei didn't believe her. She was never coming back.
Then, looking over Prnei’s sad face, she felt a pang of conscience. And, too her surprise, she promised herself that she’d come back and free them all.
I mean it, she thought.
“The second I return, I'm moving all of you out of here,” Jeska said resolutely.
“Please do. Farewell, my friend. May you find peace.”
“You too,” Jeska said.
“I hope I will be good friends with the beings you ensnare.”
This made Jeska feel even worse.
She watched Prnei scurry to his position and wished she didn’t feel so afraid. Or like so much human garbage.