Interlude

MORGAN SHOOK OFF the paralysis that had gripped him. He’d asked Sira to trust him. Claimed Plexis would answer—

No one could have seen this coming. He didn’t need the acrid taste of CHANGE to see how it could end. The station’s tolerance had limits, especially here at the beating heart of its economy. At any moment, the great section doors would close, trapping them all between. At any moment—suffice it to say accidents happened in space and all it would take would be some panicked fool in operations venting the “air they shared.”

Or under orders. This has to stop, he sent to his Chosen.

I’m open to suggestions, she replied.

We need a distraction—spotting a familiar slug, Morgan rapped on the nearest bit of black shell, gaining Huido’s attention. “Pick up Keevor.”

Eyestalks went rigid. “What?! Touch that—”

“Catch him!” For a slug, Keevor could move, leaving a glistening silver trail others were avoiding. “Hurry!”

With an aggrieved rattle, the Carasian obeyed, lunging forward to snatch the small alien in one great claw. “Now wh—”

The question vanished behind a loud keening WAIL louder than any previous shout. Keevor, rightly concerned about being squeezed in two, was squirting a thick brown mucus that hissed on contact with Huido’s carapace. In reaction, the Carasian flung his small purple attacker, still oozing mucus, as far away as possible.

As those beneath ducked and howled, Morgan turned to Sira, putting his palm against her forehead. Now!