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