Yes, they had known each other for a very short time. And yet Khar felt as though the universe itself had shaped him specifically for her.
The frightening part was not the idea of spending her life with him. That felt almost like a privilege. What frightened her was how right it all felt. Happiness like this never came without consequence.
She shook her head, as if she could physically dislodge the thought.
No. She deserved good things.
She was issuing a command to Helios from Vitro’s control room when the main display showed Horos waiting at the entrance. Lily opened the access gate and announced her location through the speakers.
Horos looked tired, as far as she could tell from the alien face. In that moment he resembled a wraith grafted onto a raven more than anything human. Perhaps that was why the impression struck her so strongly.
Maybe that is just my human perception.
Maybe he is perfectly healthy.
“Hello, Horos. How can I help?” she said as he stepped into the control bay.
“Hi, Lily. We need to leave immediately. Vegrun’s orders. Can you undock?”
Horos sat down in Khar’s usual chair.
Lily frowned. Technically, the chair did not belong to Khar, but seeing Horos in his place felt wrong. Almost insulting.
“I am alone on shift,” she said. “I will call Khar back so we can depart together.”
“No. We leave now. Vegrun’s directive. Vitro is expected at the Kharm-2 cruiser.”
Reluctantly, Lily reached for the control panel. Then she stopped.
She hit the quick-access key to Vegrun’s private channel.
Horos sprang toward her the instant he saw the hesitation.
Lily jumped aside, but this was not an attack she could evade.
Horos leaned toward her and before she could strike him, a sound tore from his throat, sharp enough to feel like shattered glass.
Every muscle in Lily’s body seized.
She hit the floor as if in a convulsive fit.
Everything hurt. Everything burned.
It felt like being trapped in an endless spasm, except her awareness remained painfully sharp. Time stretched into something unbearable, seconds dragging under the crushing weight of the agony.
Horos stepped over her, cut Vitro’s outgoing signals, then knelt beside her.
“How clever of you to sense danger immediately,” he said. “Your species is still closer to animals than civilization. Your instincts have not dulled yet.”
The convulsions stopped.
Lily lay limp on the floor, drained, barely able to breathe. She wanted to fight, but her muscles refused to answer. Horos calmly removed her personal console and replaced it with thick, solid-looking metal bands around her wrists, then her ankles.
He spoke as he worked, half to himself, half to her, his voice hoarse with delight.
“I could watch this forever. Such beautiful, sweet suffering. I will admit, you surprised me, Earth whore. Only species with the most complex nervous systems tremble like this. You humans have barely stepped beyond your filthy little planet, and yet you are like this.”
Lily could not speak. She felt control slowly returning, like circulation creeping back after deep cold. She could not lift her arms, but the familiar ache began to pulse in her fingers.
