(eng) Kristine Smith - Kilian 03 by Law of Survival

Author:Law of Survival [Survival, Law of]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

"The Exterior Ministry is a most strange place." Dathim's stride covered ground as rapidly as a skimmer. His speech came too quickly for his gestures to keep up – his posture altered so quickly he appeared in spasm. "Storage rooms next door to work rooms instead of in separate wings. Humanish sitting at work tables out in the open, in the middle of hallways!"

"They are called receptionists, ní Dathim." Tsecha struggled to match the Haárin's stride, but finally surrendered to pain and fatigue. "Or sometimes, they are just called desks, like the furniture at which they sit." He limped to the first bench he saw, and sank gratefully onto the sun-warmed surface. The radiant heat warmed him through his robes, a gift from the gods, and truly.

"Remarkable!" Dathim circled the bench, head down, like a youngish inscribing a games boundary. "NìaRauta Atar advised me to seek you out, nìRau Tsecha, for absolution. Such were the things we saw that she felt it necessary." He stopped in place and glanced at Tsecha. "This is why we speak here, nìRau. Because I seek absolution."

"Wise, ní Dathim."

"In case we are asked why we speak so frequently. It is because my soul is troubled by so much contact with humanish."

"I understand, ní Dathim."

Dathim turned full-face. His gold eyes altered to molten yellow in the bright sunlight. "You are not well, nìRau." Again, he spoke in statement, not in question.

"I am tired, ní Dathim." Tsecha shivered as a lake breeze brushed him. "I have not slept since we spoke amid the trees."

"I slept most well." Dathim sat, legs splayed in the sprawl of a humanish male. "It is wise to do so at times such as these." He lowered the sling pouch to the tiles at his feet and freed the closures. "Humanish are strange."

"Reading of and hearing of does not prepare one for the reality, ní Dathim." Tsecha paused to untangle one of his side braids, which a gust of breeze caused to entangle in an earring. "At times, the disorder is enlivening. Other times, it is most vexing, and tru – " His words expired to nothing as Dathim opened the sling pouch, and he saw what lay inside.

"They have no idea, nìRau." Dathim reached into the pouch and lifted out a documents slipcase. Beneath it lay more slipcases, folders, and wafer envelopes. "None."

"Dathim." Tsecha leaned forward and ran a finger over the slipcase.

"They meet us outside, the humanish. Minister Ulanova is one of them. She laughs too loudly. Her hands flutter as a youngish. I do not like her." Dathim sat back, hands in tense rest atop his thighs, yellow eyes watching the water. "They lead us inside. Me. NìaRauta Atar, who does not belong but she is my facilities dominant, so I cannot argue. Ni Fa, who is suborn to me. The young pale-haired one, who looks as the lieutenant who was shot – ?"

Tsecha visualized an angry red face. "Lescaux."

Dathim nodded. "Lescaux. He takes over. He precedes us, which is odd, considering his station.

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