She refuses to submit.
She refuses to submit.
“She’ll never submit,” Hunt cried above the momentary lull in the fighting. “To you or to anyone. Don’t ever do it, Joss. No matter what. Never do it.”
That sounded so … final.
Like Hunt thought he wouldn’t make it.
“Kill him first,” the same Magnum said, the others joining him, the death sentence ringing out all too clearly.
“Nonononono,” I pled. “What do you want from me? What is it?”
The Magnum across from me smiled. This time, it was him alone.
“Nothing we need any of the others for.” His smile turned pensive. “You won’t be able to resurrect them this time, you know. Not anymore.”
Could it be true? My heart, seized by fear for my crew, shrieked that this might be one of the few truths the man had ever told me.
“Please,” I said, uncaring that the word tasted foul in my mouth. For my crew, whatever was necessary.
“Don’t hurt them. I’ll do whatever you want. Anyth…” But I trailed off.
Now I was lying.
I’d dojust aboutanything to save those I loved more than I loved myself.
But I wouldn’t do absolutelyanything.
They wouldn’t want me to either.
“It’s moving to see you so concerned for them,” the Magnum said. “Really, it is. I value loyalty greatly in my own people.” He chortled. “Well, I use the term loosely, of course.”
“What are you?” I asked.
This Magnum wasn’t vibrating, though it wasn’t that great of a relief when the gigantic office was already crammed with identical copies of the man. There were hundreds of him.
This one brushed plaster and glass shards off the shoulders of his sweater, a pointless exercise when the sweater was torn in several places; a single, bloodless bullet hole gaped from its front.
Magnum looked at me, really studied me. “The Aquoians call us…” His upper lip rolled with distaste. “…skinsnatchers.
“Such a crude term for our kind when we’re capable of such great feats. We don’tsnatch. Wetransform. We’re like stars, brilliant and astounding, like nothing else in the cosmos. But stars start out as dust.”
“You’re implying that humans are dust?” I said blandly, while silently calling out.
A soft moan, I couldn’t tell whose.
Nothing at all.
“Dust we make infinitely more impressive. More powerful. Mighty.”
A general murmur swept through the Magnums. When the self-proclaimed orator turned toward the entrance, so did I.
Rich Connely, his grade-A prick of a nephew, waltzed in, along with Zoe Wills, Hunt’s obligatory girlfriend.
