"See what I mean!" Donald gritted.
"She seems happy. She's not hurt. And Ven's little weight doesn't seem to bother her. What are you complaining about?"
Donald growled something unintelligible, turned on his heel and walked away.
I let him go. There was no sense in making him angrier than he was. After a moment the snarl of his car's engine rose to a crescendo then faded away into the distance.
A few minutes later Edith came back to the ship. "Why did Don leave?" she asked.
"Perhaps he had something to do," Ven said.
She pouted. "He's always so busy nowadays," she said sulkily. "He isn't nice like he used to be. Do you think he's tired of me?"
"No, I don't think so. He just doesn't like you spending so much time up here," I said.
"But it's fun—and Ven likes it," she said. "I like it too. And since he isn't home much any more, it's the only place where I can relax and be myself." She brushed the drops of water from her body and shook out her damp hair. "It's wonderful up here—so quiet and peaceful—and Ven's so nice."
My mate's aura glowed a pleased pink as I turned an embarrassed lavender. It was almost criminal, I thought, what Ven had done to the girl. Donald might be my servant, but I had never attempted to condition him into liking it. As much as possible we operated as equals, rather than in this sickening relationship which Ven had imposed upon Edith. To avoid showing my displeasure I went up to the control room, donned my helmet and went into rapport with Donald.