ASMSG Scifi Fantasy Paranormal Emagazine April 2015 | Page 37

D’Anton and Carver had warned me repeatedly to
stay out of sight when the Gran were on tour of the
station. They said I was too different, that I’d attract
unwanted attention. Though Carver pretended he was
the man in charge of the station, he couldn’t hide his
fear of the Gran from me. Everyone feared the Gran.
The path of my fall brought me to another access
corridor and my maglatch caught the edge of the
opening in the steel wall long enough to send me
swinging hard into the narrow passage. I demagged
and sailed through the side corridor like a bullet. Not
much room to maneuver, but I’d done it a million
times. I slid off the smooth wall, letting the friction
slow me enough to land on my feet. On touchdown, I
broke into a full run and dived left down another
access point. This was my playground. The
maintenance passageways intersected across every
level of the station. I had memorized the tunnels and
their varying directions of grav-spin since year one.
Finally I found them, coming off the catwalk into the
hallway leading to the elevators. I settled in quietly
and focused on slowing my heartrate and respiration
to a quiet stillness. I needed to hear every detail. The
vertical slats of the air vents let me see the Gran as
they walked past.
The tall, slimmer Cat sounded agitated, growling and
yelping loudly. “I will have to report this breach to my
commanders! This is an outrage! We demand the
highest quality and performance f rom our workers, in
accordance with the treaty!”
I had learned to speak Gran in the three days that I
borrowed Carver’s personal tab and memorized all his
sociology files on The Gran Empire. He hardly
noticed the tablet was missing before I put it back in
his quarters.
A look of fear passed over Carver’s eyes and I heard
his heart beat pounding hard and fast. “Not what you
think. The subject is … expedient, not for sale.”
Carver was only moderately fluent in the growl-clicksnapping language of the Gran. I knew he meant to
say the subject is an experiment.
When I’m in the room, D’Anton and the other white
coats avoided distasteful words like ‘subject’ and
‘experiment.’ They tried not to make me
uncomfortable about what I am. Carver Liddell,
Liaison to the Gran Traders Guild, was less tactful. If
he knew I was listening, if he knew I understood what
he said, he might have spoken differently. Many

people speak differently when they know I’m
listening.
The tall warrior’s clawed hand settled on Carver’s
shoulder and pulled their procession to a halt. Sharp
teeth bared, he hissed down at Carver with
disapproval. Over two meters tall, with carmel and
black striped fur, fingers and toes tipped with nasty,
sharp claws, the Gran gave the impression of slim,
angular cats standing upright. Unlike the cheetahs and
mountain lions I’d seen in holovid archives from
Earthside, the Gran had an unmistakable intelligence
in their eyes and an array of facial expressions. The
Cat smiled at Carver. The Gran do not smile from
pleasure – it’s a predatory show of teeth.
Carver’s heart rate jumped higher and I heard him
swallow. The poor guy was sweating hard under the
scrutiny of the Gran. One of the many complaints
about these cat-like creatures was their tendency for
domination stare-down contests. The Cat was doing it
now to Carver. He stared intimidatingly, expecting
submission. Carver should have nodded, in
acceptance of dominance – but he was holding the
Cat’s gaze like an outright challenge.
I could see Carver found it disconcerting, and it put a
smile on my face. I doubted they would eat him for
dinner. The Cat was simply pushing for control, or
acknowledgement of status. Carver started
stammering, and his Gran speech devolved into
gibberish.
The Cat cut him off. “An experiment of this potential
should be discussed openly. This stock is far more
capable. I want her. I want to sample this stock.”
To Continue Reading Pick Up Angel 6.0 on

Amazon
Click Here to Add Angel 6.0 to your Goodreads "To
Read" pile: Goodreads

37 | P a g e