Stars Gods Wolves by Dan Kirshtein (best classic books .txt) 📕

monstrous carcass splayed out upon it. She’d killed many things before, and she’d seen many more bodies. But the memories of this encounter gave her pause when she noticed the creature. So she turned her attention to Martin and tried to start a conversation. “You couldn’t sleep either?”

The doctor rubbed his eyes and scribbled notes onto a tablet. She’d never seen someone write so fast, and she tried not to notice the large bandage wrapped around most of his thumb.

Martin didn’t look up from the beast. “Had five years to sleep in that cell.” His voice was like an old car engine that finally turned over. She watched him pause before looking up at her. It wasn’t the way a normal person looks at someone; it was more encompassing, more all-over. While at first it seemed flirtatious, Josie realized it was something quite different. His eyes passed over her as if he were looking at a landscape, not a face. Then, his brow furrowed, and he looked frustrated with himself before he looked back at the creature. He pointed at it and disgruntledly picked up a set of tweezers. “Also learning about our new friends here.”

The mercenary’s head cocked. “Plural? You think there are more of them?”

Martin barely looked up from the beast, his lip curling up as he spoke and worked at the same time. “Of course. Biologically speaking, monsters certainly do exist, but there is no such thing as a monster.”

Josie nodded uneasily. She tried to brush off the awkwardness and change the subject. “Yeah. Sorry I had to rough him up a bit.”

Martin’s face softened, remembering how others described him as arrogant or pompous. After hearing himself speak, he was starting to see why. “Trust me; I’d prefer your health to his.” He still wasn’t looking at her. His tone softened as he picked at a piece of flesh with the tweezers and examined it.

The doctor stood up from his chair and put the piece of flesh into what looked to Josie like a big microwave. He typed some numbers into his tablet, and the machine began to hum. Light passed through the piece of flesh, and numbers appeared on the tablet. They ran from one thousand and dropped very quickly.

Josie kept watching, but her tone grew more serious. “Thing’s got thick skin.”

Martin nodded, distractedly, still staring at his numbers. He hated that he began to prefer being alone, and he fought that urge as best he could. All things considered, he found her to be quite welcome practice. “Well, plasma is heat and liquid-based,” he mused. “Their skin is resistant to heat and cold.”

Her eyebrows perked up and she finished sipping her tea before speaking. “The things that survived the apocalypse? Yeah, I bet.” They smiled again, and Martin finally took the time to glance at her. While he had a hard time looking at her face, he did notice some things: her athletic thighs, the curve of her hips against her agile frame, and the delicate way her scarred hands held the mug. Without the rough and tumble attitude, she was quite attractive in her own way.

His face softened as doubts raced through his mind. “Listen,” he started, and she allowed him the time to gather his thoughts. “What you all did for me, I don’t deserve it.”

Josie shrugged, recalling her own less than noble history. She tried to respond in words she would understand, had the roles been reversed. “Maybe not, but we get paid either way.” Her thoughts drifted back to her old drill sergeant who told her she didn’t deserve food, that she didn’t deserve sleep. Those things were luxuries, and luxuries were earned. She’d come a long way, but still carried the harshness of those times in her eyes, her face, and her smile.

Martin paused, realizing this was the first time on the entire expedition that someone had spoken to him like he was a person, not just a scientist. “Can I ask you a question?” She didn’t move, didn’t give any sign of approval, and certainly didn’t extend any form of personal affection for the man to warrant something like that. But he continued anyway. “The colony on Maxia, is it still there?”

She was grateful the question wasn’t as personal as he originally implied. She raised an eyebrow. “The Wraith moon?” He nodded, and it felt like an eternity before she answered. “Yeah, they didn’t get hit.”

Martin’s relief forced him to sit. His eyes watered and a smile crossed his face, though a fist covered it. “Ah, I’m sorry.” He took a moment to collect himself, waving at her in apology. “I was certain it was gone.” He wiped his eyes, despite crying more. “Certain that the Heruleans wouldn’t keep their word.” The humming from the machine stopped; a bell signaled to the doctor that the piece of flesh was ready to be removed.

Not being very good with sensitive topics or emotions, the lieutenant tried to lighten the mood. “I swear we had something just like that to cook with at home.” It worked. Martin smirked again, standing and walking over to the machine, wiping his eyes once more.

Once he was ready, he opened the machine, took the flesh back to the slab, sat next to the mercenary, and opened his tablet. He seemed almost disappointed. “Well, that can’t be right,” he said, swiping through multiple screens to confirm the readings.

All this science nonsense had finally caught Josie’s attention. She leaned forward, glancing at the tablet. The program dated the flesh at a mere four weeks old. If that was the case, these things would have been born shortly before the distress call from the stations. Martin shook his head at the thought, blinking as his mind raced.

“Maybe we bagged a young one?” Josie inquired.

“At this size?” He slapped the specimen with the back of his handAs he stared at the creature, the man’s mind ran away like a train. His facial expressions changed just as quickly. “This means—this could