She didn't mean to tell him that. Didn't want him to look at her and see a Luss-Kurr. He'd been watching her closely the whole day as if trying to figure her out. But sometimes she'd thought he found her acceptable. "I'm not a slave."
He toasted her with his glass. "As I don't hold with slavery, that's good."
"I'm not a Luss-Kurr," she blurted out despite her resolve not to tell him.
"What's a Luss-Kurr?" he asked.
She should've kept quiet. Now she'd told him she was a Luss-Kurr - soulless. As if her lack of ryhov didn't shout that out already. She stared down at her hands. "A Luss-Kur is a person without a soul."
"You believe you have no soul?"
Couldn't he see what she was? It was one of the most discussed subjects among cyborgs. "I do not have ryhov." Though she was hoping to deve
