“Shut up.” She finished her wine and poured herself another glass. “Let’s talk about something else.”
“Oh yeah? Like what?”
“You play Bezi?”
“Not very well.”
“Perfect. I saw some cards back in the bunkhouse.”
She liberated another bottle of wine from the bar and we returned to the bunkhouse.
“I’m just going to freshen up,” she said. “You find the cards and pour us a glass of wine.”
She disappeared into the bathroom while I poured a couple of glasses of wine and stretched out on the bed. I didn’t feel much like playing Bezi and I was beat from all the hiking and slogging through the swamp. I could use a shower and some new clothes, that was for sure.
Something was definitely going on with Kira. Half the time she seemed annoyed with me and the other half she seemed like she wanted to jump my bones.
When Kira came back from the bathroom, I could immediately tell which half of the time it was.
She was completely naked, sucking on a leptic stick, and regarding me with a half-smile.
We had a fun night. Very fun.
Kira obviously had a lot of pent-up sexual energy, which she put to good use.
As we started to get into it, I felt a tinge of guilt. Technically, I was still engaged to Lirala, but after what had happened with Preity, my feelings for Lir had cooled. And, honestly, it was a long time coming. That was a situation I would have to deal with soon enough. In the meantime, I was focused on the leptic-fueled she-tiger straddling me.
We went at it like sex-starved teenagers, and it was a long, passion-filled night. At some point we both drifted off into an exhausted slumber.
I dreamt that I was in the reception area of Beck Salvage, waiting to see someone. Thalatea was there, but she was ignoring me. Everyone was ignoring me, but for some reason I didn’t care. I just stared at the artwork that adorned the room. There were seven or eight pieces, all by the same artist—who I couldn’t place. As I examined one of the pieces, I realized that it wasn’t quite a painting. It had three-dimensional elements as well. Kind of half painting, half sculpture. The design was severe and modern, with sharp geometric shapes rendered in strong blues, blacks, and metallics. It reminded me of something, but I wasn’t sure what.
Then it hit me.
The Vostok.
I closed my eyes and pictured the design of the Mayir ship. It, too, was blocky, with sharp angles—in keeping with the Mayir design aesthetic, which was all about power and strength and rigidity. The Mayir had no use for curves, or gradations, or subtlety.
I took a few steps back from the artwork and double-checked that I was where I thought I was. But I had no doubt. Especially when my uncle Wallace emerged from the hallway and clasped my hand in a grim greeting. I was in the Beck Salvage world headquarters. I was sure of it.
But why was the artwork on the wall so clearly Mayir?
The disturbing thought caused me to jolt awake.
That was when I saw the red glowing eyes. Maybe three meters away, unmoving in the near total darkness of the room. Regarding me calmly.
I felt all my muscles seize up, and my heart kicked into overdrive.
6
Kira was sound asleep, pressed tightly, spooned into my stomach. She was unaware, unmoving except for the regular rise and fall of her chest as she breathed.
Meanwhile, the gaze of the glowing eyes had not wavered. It was tough to tell, but they looked larger than human eyes, but set much closer together. And one looked larger than the other.
If I were to guess based on the angle of my line of sight, I’d say that the creature was fairly low to the ground—less than a meter. It wasn’t one of those Bondril I fought on the bridge. That was for sure.
Since I couldn’t see much of anything beyond the bed, I tried to reach out with my other senses. I should be able to detect the pre-roar grumbles of a predator—or at the very least smell it.
Frantically, I thought about what I could use as a weapon. Kira had an RB, but for the life of me I had no clue where it was. Same for my judder knife. I guessed that it was still attached to the bulky expedition belt, but once we decided we were staying, I had dumped that along with my bags somewhere in this room.
Slowly, carefully, I eased myself upright.
The eyes still bored through the darkness at me. I thought I saw the slightest shimmer from the larger eye.
The only other light in the room was a dim path light at the far end of the bunkhouse near the bathroom. I desperately hoped that my eyes would adapt to the darkness enough so I could see what was watching me.
“Kira!” I hissed in her ear. “Kira, wake up.”
But no use. It was like she was in a coma.
Fuck it.
I took a deep breath and swung my legs off the side of the bed, then eased the rest of my body out, trying to control my movements so as not to provoke an attack from whatever creature was stalking me.
Its eyes followed my progress, but the creature remained still. Most likely poised to attack.
My feet pressed against the cool floor and I crouched beside the bed. If I could lure the creature away from Kira, she might have a chance to get away—once the inevitable shit went down.
I eased backward in the darkness, slowly making my way towards the faint glow near the bathroom.
This time, the glowing eyes did more than track me. They moved closer. And a third glowing eye appeared. As the creature advanced, I heard a weird sound. Almost mechanical—a whirring.
The sudden noise sent a jolt of fear through me and I scrambled back, knocking into a piece of furniture or something that clattered to the floor.
A second later, I
