Free Monster Republic by Ben Horton Page A

his cheek, as if biting back words he really wanted to speak. Then he turned on his metal heel and left. Cameron felt himself relax. He realized that his hands were still bunched into fists. If Rora hadn’t shown up, he didn’t know what might have happened.
    Cameron turned back to Tinker, who met his gaze briefly and gave a nervous, flickering smile.
    ‘Hi,’ he said. ‘Is it O-O-OK if I …’
    Cameron nodded curtly.
    With the calm dexterity of a surgeon, Tinker picked up the tools he had dropped, and began fishing around in Cameron’s shoulder. It was a strange sensation. Cameron was aware of something moving inside him, but there was no pain.
    While Tinker worked, Cameron kept silent, telling himself that it was all for the best. But he couldn’t shake off a nagging sense of doubt. So far, the Monster Republic wasn’t working out to be so great. Apart from the fact that he was being worked on by a twitchy kid insteadof a real doctor, he wasn’t sure it was all that different from Fry’s laboratory.
    ‘D-d-done,’ said Tinker. He plopped a tiny capsule into a metal dish, then hastened off without another word before Cameron could even say thank you.
    ‘Gone to feed it to a stray cat, maybe?’ said Cameron. ‘That’d throw the Bloodhounds a false trail.’
    Rora smiled tightly. ‘Yeah. Maybe.’
    Cameron sat up. ‘We need to talk—’
    The fox-girl shook her head. ‘You need to get some rest.’
    She led him back into the corridor. Sticking her head through a door for a quick inspection, she ushered him into a side room almost completely filled by a bunk bed. From the size of the place, Cameron guessed it might once have been a store cupboard. There was no one else there.
    ‘This should do you. Top or bottom, whichever you prefer,’ she said, gesturing at the bed. Cameron opened his mouth to speak, but Rora cut him off.
    ‘We’ll talk tomorrow. Get some rest. I need some, even if you don’t.’
    Cameron remembered what she had said in the park about her weakness being a lack of stamina. She certainly looked tired now. Maybe he’d get more answers from her in the morning. He slumped down on the bottom bunk, which creaked alarmingly under the weight of his new body.
    ‘Not quite the warm welcome I was led to expect,’ he said pointedly. ‘Most of your friends out there won’t even look me in the eye.’
    ‘There you go again. Not everything’s about you ,’ Rora replied. ‘This is strange for them too. Give them time.’
    ‘Huh. If you say so.’ Cameron didn’t buy it.
    Rora shook her head and left. Moodily, Cameron settled back and planted his head on the pillow. He didn’t suppose for a minute he’d be able to sleep, but maybe he ought to try. He stared up at the underside of the top bunk for a moment, then sighed. Get some rest. That was easy for her to say.
    How was he supposed to close his electronic eye?
    Ruefully he had to admit he didn’t have a clue. Perhaps Rora had dealt with enough similar people to tell him the answer. It would mean having to ask for her help, though. Again.
    Embarrassed, Cameron slipped off the bed. Sticking his head through the door, he opened his mouth to call after her.
    There was no need. Rora was standing just a few metres down the corridor, flanked by the technical whizz-kid, Tinker, and the sour-faced figure of Slater, who looked as moody and sullen as Cameron felt. They were talking in low, urgent voices.
    Before Cameron could ‘turn up’ his hearing, Slater spotted him, and placed a warning hand on Rora’s arm. But really, Cameron didn’t need to hear what they were saying. Everything about the trio, from their sudden pointed silence to their furtive glances towards him, made it obvious.
    They were talking about him. Great.
    Rora cleared her throat. ‘Do you need anything?’
    Cameron gave her a long hard look.
    ‘No.’
    Throwing himself back on the bed, he rolled over to stare at the brick wall. He didn’t know if sleep would come, but he