Page 96 of Tracked and Taken

“I see it.”

“Who else is running this.”

“I do not know.”

“We photograph everything.”

“Copy.”

His claws are out a quarter-inch. They stay there.

“Vosk. Twenty seconds out. Hold.”

Thane fills the doorway. Looks at Torek. The IV. The restraints. His jaw does the work his mouth will not.

“How long.”

“Weeks. Possibly longer.”

Tael lifts Torek off the slab as if he is afraid of adding insult. Thane takes the carry.

“Get him to Junction One. Maren is waiting at intake.”

“Copy.”

“Do not come back for us.”

“Vosk.”

“If we need extraction, I comm Flossie. Xor brings the cutter.”

Thane nods. “Copy. Torek home.”

Thirty seconds and he is gone.

The corridor is larger without him. The station notices.

Two of us. Eight years of this air. Twenty sedated bodies behind glass we cannot carry. My hands are icy. I hate that. The kit pulls across the bruise on my hip when I turn, last night sitting under this morning like a second pulse, and the want from the bunk curdles into something simpler: I want him here because this place is not safe.

I do not say it.

I stay on his six.

We continue. Document. Tag. Get out.

46-D: Vendrish male. Tag.

45-B: human male, bonded to something Tael does not recognize. Later. Tag.

44-F: three Korrhai. Bonded. Adults.

I stop.

“Tael.”

“I see it.”

“Thane’s case profile.”