Lando didn’t even want a companion. She had nothing against them; they were helpful for the male loneliness epidemic and things like that, but she didn’t need one personally, and if she were to choose one for herself it would be a woman. Female companions were rarer and more prestigious and what the hell was Lando supposed to do with this ran-through old guy?
“You have a lot in common,” Zak said, his blustery American twang. “I just think you’ll really get along.”
Which was bullshit, of course. He didn’t really think Lando was going to get along with a washed up companion ten years her senior; Zak wanted the exposure. It was like any other company that sent her PR in the mail hoping to get free advertisement, except this chill no pressure “present” required her to sign a contract that was ninety eight pages long.
She couldn’t maim Daniel, it said, and then it went on for three pages to define maiming. She couldn’t scar him on more than 10% of his total surface area, cumulatively. No disfiguring, which required another five pages of definition. She was responsible for ensuring all his basic needs were met in a reasonable manner. Ten pages of what constituted reasonable including example templates of feeding schedules and rest guidelines. If she kept him awake for more then 24 hours straight it constituted torture and she wasn’t allowed to torture him for more than two days without breaks or three days with, and either way she was required to seek professional medical assessment upon the conclusion.
She wasn’t allowed to kill him. No tedious legal jargon around that one. She just wasn’t allowed to kill him, full stop.
“You know it’s insane that you’re making me sign this,” Lando said. “I’m not going to do a freaking intentional murder.”
“More insane if we didn’t,” Zak said cheerfully. “Alright, Daniel.”
Daniel, who’d been standing in a way that looked relaxed while still not moving a muscle, stepped forward. Zak hugged him. Zak hugged him for a long time.
When the hug stretched on absurdly, Lando snapped, “That’s enough. You’re going to, fricken, use him up or whatever.”
A booming guffaw from Zak.
