‘Eron.’
The captain’s voice was chilled water to the face. Eron stepped away from the gallu with an odd sense of guilt.
‘Sir, I’ve –’
The captain gestured for him to be silent. Eron opened his mouth, angry words ready for expulsion. He immediately checked himself. He’d never spoken a harsh word to the captain’s face, yet here he found himself with a tirade on his tongue. He took another step away from the gallu, refusing to meet the gaze he felt still upon him. The captain was oblivious, listening in on his communicator. Eron searched for his own, pulling it from where it had tangled around the back of his neck. Pushing it to his ear, he heard Blake Beckworth’s voice clear through the device.
‘ . . . all are operational. His levels indicate containment paralysation. Can you confirm?’
The captain glanced at him. Eron nodded, his mood sinking with realisation. He had overblown his own strength in the subjugation. The gallu had not lain so still at his feet for fear of Eron. He had been locked in by the inhibitors.
‘Confirmed.’ Eron entered the conversation. ‘The gallu is subdued.’
‘That’s the final.’ Blake’s robotic voice crackled through the heavy static. ‘All four carapaces now contained.’
She disconnected and the dreadful interference vanished. Eron and the captain stood facing one another. Shouts rang out around them as a team surrounded the burning tech room, subduing the flames with retardants. Blood seeped into Eron’s mouth, his nose still flowing. And strands of his hair stuck to his cheeks. But Eron stood to attention, awaiting his orders.
Captain Nex eyed the fallen gallu, his expression, as always, impossible to decipher.
‘You will Bind with this one until Gren is restored.’
The oxygen rushed from Eron’s lungs, making it difficult to force the words free. ‘Captain, yes, sir. Thank you.’
The captain moved further into the smoke haze, lifting a hand as he disappeared. ‘Look at what surrounds you. It is not a gift, Eron. Do your duty.’
Duty, gift, it didn’t matter. Not in this moment. This blessed moment. Eron wiped at his face, pushing back the sodden silver strands plastered to his cheeks. His smile was impossible to wipe clear, despite the chaotic mess surrounding him.
Gren’s recovery was inevitable. The fortitude granted to the god-soldiers by the Lord Lahar ensured that, but in the interim Eron would work to ensure no doubt remained of his worthiness. Eron crouched down beside the gallu, intending to inform the creature of how they would be the victorious Bind. The pair who brought Dumuzi to their gods.
The utterance died in his throat.
The gallu watched him, eyes filled again with that same gleam of intimacy. A hint of a secret shared. A calling into the sullen, dark depths.
Eron rose to his feet and walked away, quickening his stride as he went.
Kira - 20
The dreams were as boring as they were horrific. Same shit, at least once a week. She was behind the wheel, her hands melted to the leather, skin stuck fast. Unable to pull free when the world-eating tree loomed up ahead.
Kira bolted upright. Catapulting back into the real world. ‘Balls, shit, fuck.’
The air stank with something burning, making her gag. ‘No, no.’ She lunged for the door handle, every muscle in her back jabbing a sharp protest against her spine.
‘Kira.’ The voice, soft and low and right there, pulled her up. ‘There is no harm.’
A hand on her shoulder. And for the splittiest of split seconds, she imagined it was Eron. He’d been here enough times. Dragging her out of a nightmare. His baby-butt-soft skin pressed against hers till she stopped sweating like a Swede in a sauna. Kira’s fingers traced the tear in the fabric where the handle had been. Remembering how it had come free when she’d decided she’d had enough of the rattling blue Datsun. Her skin wasn’t melted to anything. She was free. Kira swivelled round.
‘Hey, Az. All good.’ Not as pretty as Eron, but eye candy just the same. Kira tucked a couple of wayward curls behind her ear. Shit, she must look like a million dollars. And what the fuck was that smell? They were still in the car, pulled up in a driveway in front of a faded yellow house, and they were the only passengers. ‘Where are the Loony Two?’
Azrael gave her a look, the confused one he still favoured despite now being able to hold coherent conversations.
‘The woman and the kid,’ she said. ‘Leona, Vail, you know, the ones we’ve been in a car with for hours?’
Azrael pointed out the front window. The wooden house was desperate for a paint job, a single-story example of home maintenance gone bad. The roof of the narrow front veranda had more skylights than actual roof. There were lights on inside. One of the front windows was mostly masking-tape strips, with a piece of glass here and there. Silhouetted by the internal lights, a woman with a shock of white hair stared out at them.
‘Oh god, she’s still here. What time is it? Jesus.’ Kira rubbed at her neck. ‘Why are we still in the car? You’re housetrained, didn’t you tell her?’ Kira smiled at her own joke. Azrael did not. No surprises there. He held what looked like a small and very sad bouquet of dead things. Sticks and clearly long-since-picked flowers and grasses. Quite possibly
