by Deborah J. Ross, writing as Deborah Wheeler
Chapter 36
Duvach left them at the entrance to the
laboratory. Kithri followed the two men into the eerily shadowed room, blinking
as her eyes adapted to the light. Chunks of jagged underlying rock punctuated
the splintered walls and therine instruments lay jumbled everywhere. It
reminded her of Brianna=s
laboratory after the pirates ransacked it. Brushwacker sat in an
undamaged area by the far corner. Sealed incisions crossed its hull like ridges
of scar tissue.
Kithri pushed Eril aside and darted for
the scrubjet, leaping piles of debris. Heart pounding, she yanked the cockpit
door open. The duoapparatus looked intact, the headsets stored in their
holders as neatly as if she=d
done it herself. Eril=s
force whip lay on a stack of folded clothing. She recognized her own overalls,
Lennart=s
space suit and Brianna=s
jumpsuit. Four pairs of boots sat in a tidy row.
Eril and Lennart came up beside her,
but Kithri couldn=t
move. She stared at the force whip. Less than a week ago, they=d
speculated whether it could jar open the hidden door to their quarters. Brianna
had protested using her precious recording films to help locate the crystal
fractures, as if anyone would ever read them.
Brianna...
Kithri took a step backwards, suddenly
revolted by the scrubjet. It was nothing but a piece of metalloceramic alloy
and circuitry, its surface pitted like a gnat-bitten fruit. Yet she had once
abandoned three people to the space pirates in order to keep the damned thing
for herself. And Brianna, who she hadn=t
liked but had come to respect, Brianna had suffered the most for it. There was
nothing she could do for Brianna now to make it right, nothing she would ever
be able to say...
