Page 68 of Alien Peacock

“Either that, or the force fields don’t work right. But it is strange. I’ll just find us a berth.”

“Act like normal,” I suggest, my voice shaking a little because the drugs haven’t kicked in yet.

“We are,” Bari assures me as she slowly brings the saucer to a halt by a walkway. “It’s they who are not.”

“Can we get out of this right now?” I ask, just to be sure.

“If they open the hangar doors, we can. If not, no.”

I take a deep breath, put on my helmet, and straighten my suit and the armor plates. “Then the only way is forward. You don’t have to come, Bari. But I would be grateful if you stay here in the ship. Just so I have a possible escape.”

“All right,” she says simply.

I see no reason to dawdle. I open the airlocks and walk out of the ship, onto the metal walkway.

There are very few ships in the hangar, so it looks almost empty. There are some ships I don’t recognize, and I spot a couple of Bululg saucers. They’re bigger than mine, but smaller than theRevenge.

The place is quiet. There’s no movement in the hangar. When I slowly move into what should be a marketplace, there’s nobody there. But the lights are on.

I stop, looking around. Is this a prison? All I see are cells and cages everywhere. But there’s nobody in them.

Big shapes move out of the shadows. I back up to the wall, wanting to get out of their way.

More shapes come out from all sides. My heart sinks in my chest when I see that they’re Fresks.

And some are Eoans, big and winged, all converging on the spot I’m standing in.

They’re obviously here for me.

I glance quickly over at the archway to the hangars. That way has already been blocked by three Fresks.

I draw the ray gun. If they want me, they’ll pay dearly for it.

“Stay where you are!” one Eoan yells, his voice almost as deep as Arelion’s. “We don’t mean you any particular harm.”

I answer by aiming at the nearest Fresk. “Recall your goons or lose them!”

A couple of seconds go by, and I change my aim, ready to shoot.

“Fresks, stand still!” the Eoan bellows.

They obey, but the three Eoans don’t. They’re still coming at me.

“Now you stop,” I tell them. “Or I’ll shootyou.”

They don’t falter. “That would be unwise. We’re the only friends you have here.”

“Friends don’t usually ambush friends,” I seethe.

Damn it! Friends? Are these Arelion’s guys? Did he tell them to come here and get me? Or help me?

“That’s true under most circumstances,” the leader Eoan says. “But nothing about this is normal.”

The three come closer, slowly closing off all escape. They’re various shades of red, from fire truck to dark Merlot.

Either I shoot now, or they’ll get me.

Arelion’s guys wouldn’t act this way. This is not his way, and they would know it.

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