DarkShip Thieves Read Online Free Page B

legs bent backward and fast growing numb.
    But what if there was no air out there? Nonsense. Nonsense. Why would there be an airlock if no air? But what if it was ammonia? Or something like that?
    No. If he—whoever he was, Mule or darkship thief, or whatever—was anything human derived, he breathed air.
    I'd just made up my mind, and set my hand on the release bar for the lock that would allow the upper part of the lifepod to open, when there was a thud from somewhere near the nose of the lifepod. A thud like . . . like a giant door sliding open. Someone was coming. Something was coming. For me .
    I'd be damned if I was going to meet it while cramped and bent in here. I pushed down the door opening release very fast, then pushed the lifepod open, in one move, while holding my slip—what remained of it—closed with my other hand.
    And found myself facing someone who looked utterly alien. Oh, not alien like with tentacles and stuff like the bad mid twenty-first-century sensies. I mean, those were not really scary. What's so scary about a squid or an octopus? Even if it's walking on land?
    No. This . . . creature was scary because he was human, undeniably and certainly of the same human stock I was—bipedal, general body shape of human male. Truth be told, wonderful body shape of human male. He was tall, with broad, straight shoulders, a narrow waist, the muscular legs of a dancer or runner. All of which were clearly visible because he was wearing what could have been a dancer's costume—bright red and made of some material that molded every inch and possibly every pore.
    I noticed that first, but then I looked up. And above the neck . . . Oh, don't misunderstand me. He didn't look deformed. Just familiar and different in an unbearable combination. His face was that of a human male, in bone and skin—a broad face, with a hint of the Nordic and a square chin, that would not have looked out of place on a redhead.
    Only the hair above the face was not red. It was . . . calico, like a cat's. A mixture of blond and brown and red, bright enough to be visible in this dim light. And his eyes, broad and bright, had no sclera at all. They were green like a cat's and, like a cat's, slanted and shining in the dark.
    "Cat got your tongue?" he asked, and seemed to see this as the epitome of humor.
    I must have made an inarticulate sound, not so much of fear as of shock. And I let the front of my gown drop open. His eyes widened, just a little, and he did the quick once over, up and down checking movement. So, strange he might be. But human he was. And male.
    "Where am I?" I asked. "Who are you?"
    "What? Are you mentally defective as well as an Earthworm?" he asked. "You set out to catch a darkship thief, and you're surprised you caught him?"
    "I'm not . . ." I said. "I didn't . . ." Never had I found it so difficult to express myself in the right words. And then I realized what I'd first missed in the low light. In his hand, he had a weapon which he pointed at me.
    It wasn't like any weapon I'd ever seen—narrow and bright yellow and thin at the tip, it looked like . . . a pointer of some sort. But I had no doubt from the way he was holding it that he was armed and from the way he was looking at me that he was dangerous.
    I grabbed my ruined slip and held it one-handed, calculating how fast I could move to kick that weapon out of his hands, before he could—
    "Don't think about it, Earthworm," he said and smiled. Even teeth, but not a pleasant smile. "I don't have the time to play with you. I'm mid harvest, and I can only leave the ship on autopilot so long. So, I'm going to put you somewhere where you can't trouble me." He stepped out of the way and let me see, past him, an open door leading into what looked like some sort of corridor. "Go. Forward. Past me."
    There's only two things anyone can do in that situation. Obey or not obey. I chose the third. As I was walking past him, I turned and attacked him aiming