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

But the hand came from her right. Gally blinked, and the tears dropped from her eyes. Her pink face looked up at Martin, whose eyes were also red, although his expression was certain. She tried again, only for him to hold her hand down once more, this time more firmly. They locked eyes, and, without speaking, he made it clear he wasn’t going to release her.

Yes, she was angry at him, and yes he gave her pause. But some part of her wanted to hear his reasoning. Some part of her trusted him, even if the rest of her wanted to hate him.

She nodded reluctantly and released the pistol from her grip. He pulled her hand from the bag, checking to confirm it wasn’t holding the pistol before placing it on the table, still in his hand.

Rook was talking throughout the whole ordeal; it hadn’t noticed the struggle. “I will happily compare notes with your findings on the creatures,” it confirmed, to the delight of the other doctors. “But for now, I believe Doctor Collier and I have more pressing matters to discuss.”

Martin was quick to nod, not giving the slightest hint that he’d stopped listening for a moment. “Yes, I’ll just need to grab my things first.” His eyes eventually trailed to the Eighth general.

Rook nodded. “Of course.” It gestured toward the other crewmembers. “The rest of you, please make yourselves comfortable.” Mitch scoffed at the mention of the toaster-like guest accommodations.

While they walked through the tight, metal halls back to their rooms, Harper watched Gally push her way to the front of the group. She was walking well ahead of the others, with a poise that he recognized from the walk to the complex. She was livid.

“Gally,” Harper called to her, calmly. There was no reply, and the pilot shot a look to Josie, who only shrugged in response. Harper called once more before she turned a corner.

“Hello.” Ox’s booming voice could be heard. “Oh.” A sliding door—especially one controlled by a terminal—did not possess the ability to slam. Even its fastest closing speed was still deemed safe and reasonable by its designers. So, the slam that Harper heard was nowhere near the magnitude that he would have heard if Gally had her way. Afterwards, he heard Ox continue. “Okay.”

Upon approaching the row of guest rooms, Harper saw the door to the room in which he was staying slide open. Gally stood in it, her eyes fixed on Martin. “Just who the hell do you think you are?”

Martin rolled his eyes. “Oh, like you’re the first person to pull a gun on a scientist.” It was at this moment that Harper stopped trying to enter the room and just leaned against the wall until they finished.

“That thing,” she exclaimed, pointing down the hall, “is no scientist! It’s a damn blender without a lid!”

“And it just showed us something extraordinary!” Martin argued, motioning out the door—which, coincidentally, was where Harper was awkwardly standing.

“The fuck do you care about what’s living on this planet?”

Harper watched Martin freeze. He stopped gathering his things, and he stopped arguing with her. He only looked at her. If Gally regretted what she said, she didn’t show it. Her hands dropped to her sides, and she fumed.

Finally, Martin gathered a response. “I’m well aware of what I’ve done, and how I’ve averted punishment, thanks to you.” He grabbed a green bag from the floor and hoisted it over his shoulder. “The Carrion are my legacy, like it or not. And the fact that they’re not the planet-eating beasts we originally took them to be?” He stepped out the door and gave Gally one last look. “It gives me hope.”

He brushed by Harper and walked down the hall, ignoring the sound of Gally’s continued cussing. He walked to the next room over to see Purple Company gearing up for more than just a simple hallway escort. Martin and the captain met eyes. “New plan?” he inquired.

“Same plan,” Nitro confirmed almost happily as he cleaned his rifle. After a moment, he looked back up at Martin. “You’re gonna need an escort out there, if you’re going off alone with that prick.”

Martin almost declined, and he wondered if he was the only one who knew Rook wasn’t a threat. “I’ll go.” Josie’s voice interrupted his chain of thought. Martin’s eyes leapt to her.

“Wait,” Ox’s voice—carrying a bit of panic—shook the walls, unintentionally. He looked to Josie, who was nearly out the door, and pointed at Ula. “Your parasite.” The Herulean girl plopped herself in front of Ox and faced the door to wave goodbye to Josie. She waved back and looked to Ox, who was utterly flummoxed as to how he kept getting stuck on guard duty.

Josie’s tone was both encouraging and facetious. “She seems happy right where she is.” She waved him off as she plugged an earpiece into the coms on her belt. “I’ll take a turn when I get back.”

Ox mumbled under his breath, looking to the blue-skinned girl in front of him. “Said that last time,” he muttered. His attention then fell back to the Herulean girl who insisted on learning everything there was to know on parasites—not the Waykind’s finest subject. After the third question, Ox’s eyes journeyed back to the doorway, and he swore he saw Josie skip out the door with the doctor.

Martin, Josie, and Rook walked through what looked like a large factory that hissed and stirred. Large vats containing a clear, thick substance were mixed and poured into large, black temperature-controlled vats. As they received a tour of the facility, Josie was taking mental notes. She was casing the facility, hoping to take some of the guesswork out of the impending rampage.

Martin, however, was hopeful that the recent discovery would put a hold on such extreme measures. He decided that he would cooperate with Rook, prove that both parties were reasonable, and perhaps Rook would be amenable to simply