London Pride, Or, When the World Was Younger by M. E. Braddon (fiction books to read .TXT) 📕

of firestones from the bag. “How much do you need?” she asked. Zion reached for the bag, but she pulled it away before he could grab it. “And mind you, he better be worth it.”

Zion snatched the bag, removing two stones. He held them to the light without a wrinkle of surprise. “This will do,” he nodded, his mind deep in thought. “I'll see if he has a friend that wants to join us. I'll contact him while you grab some gear. And I want us fully prepared this time. None of this going in with one pistol and your half-cocked sanity, got it?”

Sedom cocked her head to the left. Her eyes were like two hollow dots behind thick eyelids, staring directly through him. “My so-called half-cocked sanity saved your life and the lives of two of your friends,” she pointed out.

He took Sedom by the shoulders, looking sternly into her eyes. His cocoa colored skin glistened in the pale light as beads of sweat gathered on his pronounced forehead. “It’s the only reason why I’d follow you to the ends of the universe. But, let’s try to respond on the side of caution this time. I’m not in the mood to die this week.” He flashed a toothy, unnatural smile in her direction.

“How about next week?” she half-joked in return.

Zion nodded several times, trying to decide if she was asking a serious question or joking. “How about we talk about it next week? It gives us something to look forward to. First, let’s see if we can survive this next adventure.”

Sedom giggled under her breath. “Sounds good.”

The two separated outside the cafeteria, Zion to call his associate and Sedom to stockpile weapons.

Inside the weapon's warehouse, Sedom piled four bags with various weapons from small hand phasers, to laser rifles and hand grenades. Anything larger would cause instant alarm and she wanted to get in and out of the city with as little attention as possible.

“Sedom,” Lolum spoke up, startling her. A hand grenade flew into the air. Without thought, she pushed Lolum to the side and dashed to grab the falling hand grenade.

Sedom rose, her chest panting from the panic. “Don't ever,” she set the hand grenade on the table with the bags, “scare me like that when I'm in here.”

Lolum took the hand grenade, examining it. “It’s a sensor pulse grenade. It wouldn't have killed us.”

“Yes, but it would have caused one heck of a headache.” She snatched it back, setting it in one of the bags. “What do you want?” She took a moment to gather up her long white hair and tied it into a bun-knot to keep it from getting in her way.

“You wanted me to point out when you're about to make a big mistake. Well, you're about to make a big mistake. Once again, you're going to risk your life, and for what?” he lectured.

“She saved my life,” Sedom mumbled. “She also is the only one I know that can help cure the symptoms of the Narkoy plague.”

Lolum forced himself between the table and Sedom, keeping her from packing. “Noral and Evolanc have managed to keep you healthy. I wouldn't worry...”

She shook her head as she forced Lolum aside. “Matrads,” she began with a deep breath, “Are offspring of Narkoy. My last trip to the city of Crowarl, I noticed many Matrads were ill. I know most people don’t think anything of it since the majority of Matrads are more pets than people, but the problem is if a Matrad can catch the illness, then the plague has altered itself to their DNA. And as you know Crehail are the other halves of Matrads genetics.”

Lolum leaned back against the table, his face full of worry as he thought. “That means it's only a matter of time before Crehail are affected and infected,” he closed his worried eyes. “Cidele,” he shuddered.

“Cidele.” Sedom frowned back. “Ratisha has... history. I came to find out she was one of the scientists who helped engineer the sickness. She might not be able to stop it, but at least find some way to… get through without--”

“Without the same result as what happened to your people,” he surmised. “I understand now. What do you want me to do?” he asked, focused on the task at hand.

“Do what you do best, govern Gathow, keep your ear to the pulse of the universe and keep managing the patrols,” she said. “I especially need you to keep an eye on the Dormins. If they send five ships or more to the Nevet system, tell me.”

“Why five?” Lolum questioned.

“It would take five of their ships to transport enough personnel to staff the Oslo,” she explained. He started to ask about the Oslo, only to be silenced with her open hand as Zion approached. “Later.” She pointed to Zion, who was lingering by the door, listening to them.

“So there's more to this than rescuing some woman?” he asked, feeling the tension in the room and the concern in Lolum. “I should have known there was more to this.”

“Why a Zalmin?” Lolum joked in regards to Zion's mind-reading abilities.

Sedom swiveled on her heels, turning her back to the men. “I couldn't leave him behind,” Sedom glanced over to Zion. “Well, I could have, but then I wouldn’t have someone around to complain all the time.”

“Out with it, Sortec,” Zion hummed.

“It's complicated.” She tossed him a pistol. “Let's say we need her.”

Zion caught the weapon. “Complicated?” He motioned to Lolum with a smirk. “What about her isn't complicated?”

Sedom handed Zion two bags. “Is your friend coming?”

“He'll be here tonight. He's bringing another friend, didn't say who. I can't vouch for him yet, but I'm sure if Qilo trusts him, he's good. I'm also going to need clearance for him to land.”

“Fine, I’ll make the arrangements,” Sedom