Arm, he decided, and started sawing on a plastic link. He hadn’t expected to make this much progress—but he hadn’t anticipated her being gone so long. The town wasn’tthatfar away. She should be able to walk it in a little over an hour. What could be taking so long?
Now that he had a means to free himself, he no longer worried about starving to death if the woman encountered his comrades. But he hoped nothing bad had befallen her.
As Drek’s aide, Grav had moved with the ground troops, but as “support staff,” his duties did not entail direct contact with the enemy. However, the argument, “Not my job” would be considered moot if anyone discovered he’d come face-to-face with a human and failed to act. Although the takeover had been aborted, allegiance to the empirerequiredhe kill any survivors he encountered. They would expect him to kill Laurel. Progg did not leave loose ends.
He had the ability to kill her now. With an arm free, he could snap her neck or grab her weapon and put a bullet throughherchest.
The idea turned his stomach. Perhaps he felt she’d earned the right to live after fighting so hard to survive. Or maybe because killing her seemed senseless. The Progg didn’t kill to kill. They eliminated their opponents painlessly and instantaneously—togainsomething. Nobody suffered. Except maybe the survivors, but there weren’t supposed to be any.
He heard a scuffling.She’s back!Relief washed over him, and he shoved the rung and the spare ties under his mattress.
When she appeared, he was sitting on his bunk, studying his toes.
“Oh, good. You’re still here,” she said with what sounded like sarcasm.
“Couldn’t leave without saying goodbye,” he fired off, getting to his feet. “You changed clothing.” She’d left wearing faded-blue pants, a black shirt with a pouch in front and a hood on the back. She’d changed into tight gray pants and a long-sleeved gray-and-white striped shirt. Same weapon though. It was still strapped to her hip.
Her hair looked…fluffier.
He sniffed. “You smell different.” He detected the musk of human, and her own fragrance, but new odors, not unpleasant, not exactly, partially masked her natural scent.
“I went to my apartment in town. Got some clothes.” She brushed her hands down her arms and averted her eyes. “Took a hot shower.” Her gaze snapped to his. “But thank you for insinuating I smelled bad.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Are you hungry?”
“Yes.” He resigned himself to another flavorless food bar. They tasted worse than field rations, which he’d never had to eat because as the admiral’s top aide, he got served whatever Drek ate. Since he’d been on his own, he’d foraged for food. Some of it had been so disgusting he couldn’t force it down, while some of it bordered on tasty. He had learned not to open the glass cases in the grocery stores. Good Zok, the stench.
“You’re making a face,” she said.
“I’m recalling the spoiled food in the grocery stores.”
“Yeah, you don’t want to open any freezer doors.” Her light, almost-musical laughter caused an inexplicable pang of pleasure and guilt.
He had nothing to feel guilty for. While his people had almost erased an entire civilization from existence and had caused hardship and suffering for the survivors, the hegemony of the strong over the weak was the way of the galaxy.
Powerful planetary nations had been conquering weaker ones since beings took to the stars. Without galactic allies and lacking the technology to defend itself, but being highly habitable, Earth had been a prime target. If the Progg hadn’t invaded, someone else would have. The Progg just got there first.
To their detriment. They’d paid the price with a pyrrhic victory. Earth rulers had had a secret weapon and didn’t even know it.
Laurel left, taking the metal bucket, returning with an empty pail and a spade. Keeping an eye on him, she scraped at the floor where the urine had spilled and dumped the smelly dirt into the bucket and took it away.
“Thank you,” he said gratefully. Removal of the layer of dirt didn’t completely eliminate the odor, but it had reduced it.
“You’re a pain in the ass.” She set a commode at the head of the bed. “Use this.” She moved toward the exit. “I’ll get us something to eat.”
While she was gone, he tried out the commode.
When she didn’t return right away, he began to wonder. Had she left the cave? Had they run out of food bars? That wouldn’t be bad, except he had to eat. He’d begun to wonder how far she’d gone to get food, when she brought in two plates, one delicious-smelling, the other he prayed wasn’t intended for him. “Are you an herbivore or a carnivore?” she asked.
“We do not eat animals,” he said, repulsed by the idea.
“Oh, that’s where you draw the line?” She settled the good dish on the table in front of him. “I had a feeling you’d be difficult. Rigatoni with marinara sauce. No meat or cheese.
“Fork.” She slapped down a flimsy utensil that would be useless as a weapon. She was cautious but not careful enough. She’d forgotten about the ladder under the bed.
“Thank you for the vegetarian meal.” Her consideration surprised him, as did the fact that she intended to eat with him. She settled on the other side of the room with the foul fare. He could smell the meat, but he wouldn’t hold it against her that she ate animal flesh.
