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   Chapter 46 No.46

Dead Beckoning By Christina Engela Characters: 5440

Updated: 2018-06-30 12:02

"So do you!" Mykl hissed in reply. The corridor was silent. Where was a meandering technician or wandering ensign on cleaning detail when he needed one?

"Yeah." Blachart nodded. "But maybe I don't deserve her. Maybe she's better off without me to complicate her life – and gods know, that's hard enough already as it is, without having me around – a shit-magnet. Maybe I need to earn the right to be happy."

A moment of understanding passed between them in the silence.

"We'll let fate decide. Maybe if I survive Kilroy and end his reign of terror, I'll have earned my chance at living a good life and finding happiness." Adam remarked. "Guess I'm lucky my name's not Roy, huh? Anyway, I have you to thank for saving my life – and for saving me. Time to return the favor."

"By cuffing me to my ship?" Mykl asked sarcastically, leaning against the handrail and gesturing as if to ask for help from the heavens with his free hand.

"By keeping you alive. For Ripley... For both of you – and for me too. I'll sleep better if you two take my advice and get the hell out of the Space Fleet and find a nice safe, quiet life out of harm's way." He chuckled, seemingly at some private joke. "You have a choice to live better – a choice many people never get. A choice I didn't have, until you gave it to me!"

"It's choice that defines us!" Mykl breathed. "Are we seriously going to do philosophy right now? We don't have the time for this!"

"You're right." Adam replied. "On both counts. And this is my choice."

Mykl turned back to the cuffs and pulled on them again, trying unsuccessfully to free himself. Not that h

ion. Not far away, he spotted an older model, medium-sized star shuttle. The fact that it was black should've been obvious, except for the odd fact that it wasn't. It was a brownish yellow color, and looked very much like a long range shuttle that might be operated by mining prospectors. The door was open and the ramp was down, and nearby there were piles and piles of stuff in sacks and crates. As he moved in a bit closer, Blachart spotted gleam of precious metals, and the source of the noises he'd heard earlier. Far above, he could see a night sky through an opening, most likely big enough to explain the presence of the shuttle – and how Kilroy planned to make his getaway, probably once all the fuss in orbit had died down and the Terrans had pickled off thinking they had got him. With the shuttle being unlikely to be identified on sight as a Corsair runabout, all he would need was a change of clothes and some trumped-up papers, and he could pose as anything from a deep-space prospector to a tourist. A nice tidy plan, Adam thought. Pity about the devil in the details.

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