Page 84 of Invasive Species
“Oh, alright then.” Letting my arm fall feels like a defeat, because once I lie down, I'll be stuck in that bed with only my thoughts for company.
And now I know the truth.
TWENTY-EIGHT
GARA
“Whose is this?”
I jolt awake under the silver heat-retaining tarpaulin I found yesterday. Glancing at the snatches of sky visible at the edges of the Milagrove tree, I guess it’s heading toward evening.
“Whose creature is this?” an artificially enhanced voice booms. Judging from their intonation, it’s a Parthiastock.
I have to hope it's a Base rather than the Apex. Shaking my head free of sleep, I look around for Mae. “Please don't let it be her causing this commotion,” I mutter to myself.
Putting my head around the corner, I spot Mae strutting in front of a red-faced Parthiastock, her feathers flicking as she gouges the street with her fearsome rear claws.
Drok na.
“I’ll try cooking it,” a Magirustock next to the law keeper says, thrusting his spoon at a pot with a rattling lid. Water boils inside. “It’s been stealing scraps for cycles now.”
“Hm, a pest,” the Parthiastock grumbles, reaching his huge hands down for Mae.
I can’t leave her to her fate, but I’ll be found out if I interfere.
Sucking in a breath, I grab the sliver of ceramic. My skills hone into the infinite sharp edge of the shard, hovering it over my wrist. I’ve considered cutting out my chip before, but having no chip is nearly as bad as one marked for euthanization. Now, I have no choice but to take that gamble.
Letting out a stream of air and muttered curses, I forcibly relax my scales and dig into my own flesh.
Fire rips up my arm, quickly dampened by my nanites. I subconsciously direct them to wait, dipping my fingers into the fresh wound to find my chip. Once my fingertips brush a hard edge, I grip and pull, tugging it out despite my slick blood making it slippery. Tossing the chip to the side, I clamp my other hand around my wrist and allow my nanites to heal my flesh, although they’ll take time to knit together a slash through my scales.
Time Mae doesn’t have.
I leap to my feet and race toward the Parthiastock. Mae runs round his feet, and his face and scales are even redder with anger.
“Wait, that’s my mistress’ pet,” I call, only half a lie. I pull up into the shadow of the Parthiastock. “I’m sorry for the commotion she has caused?—”
“What is it?” the purple clone demands.
“It's a rare off world… bird.”
His gimlet gaze slides down my body, and I quickly put my damaged arm behind my back.
A grimace mars his lips. “Who’s your mistress? I'll catch this… thing, and bring it to her.”
“No, no, I'm here, looking for it.” Ducking down I snatch at Mae, who lets out her rattling hiss and darts away from me.Drok na, not now!
The Parthiastock clamps his huge hand around my right wrist and I press my lips shut at the swell of agony from my new wound. I school myself to face the other male with a blank face, hiding the fire licking up my arm.
He turns my hand over with ease, his strength leagues beyond my own. “What’s this?”
Damn the Parthiastock’s natural nose for mystery and their overpowering desire to hunt out any they find.
“The creature scratched me when I cornered her earlier,” I say, trying not to gasp from the pain as his grip tightens. He is the Base, but can he sense the lie when I'm this close to him?
Mae shoots me a glare, like she can understand me and despises the defamation of her character, even though her new wickedly curved claws have nearly carved me several times.
Holding my gaze, the Parthiastock unhooks his scanner from his belt, and cold fear douses my spine.
