UNBOUND by Douglas Owen

Author:Douglas Owen
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781928094593
Publisher: DAOwen Publications

Cassidy stepped out last. He tapped his collar, “We’re out. Close her up.” He heard the door shut behind him, but didn’t trust himself to look. The image might provoke something.

Across the stone bridge, the welcoming party stood and waited. Cassidy stepped forward, while the rest of their small party crowded warily together. He nodded at Matthias, and then Deena. “We’ll go forward.”

She nodded.

“This is where you take over.”

She nodded again, which galled him slightly. But then he realised her thoughts were no longer on him, she’d geared herself up for the communication and left them behind; now she was thinking only about the people across the bridge.

How could you trust someone so unafraid?

“Alright.” Cassidy gestured with his hand for Deena to go first. She seemed to hesitate. He tried not to feel paranoid as she fumbled over protocol. “Move,” he said, quietly.

She started walking. Cassidy stepped in behind her, flanking her on the left, while Matthias took up the right.

Ahead, the white-robed figures watched their progress.

The species had no language, so were known by no clear name. They were called the Dancers by some, but most called them the Retch, connecting them to the rings that had ruined their world, while also judging them for how they’d reacted to everyone who’d come before. Some said it was fair; others said it was cruel. Cassidy had no opinion either way.

He wondered how many more of the Retch were watching them, concealed, how many guns were watching them?

How had they killed who they’d killed?

They came to a stop before the Retch. Their Emissary, the dancer who was also their speaker, stepped forward. And then he “spoke”.

His white robe fell away from him, billowing like a sail before fluttering to the ground. A slender body was revealed, dotted with small un-intrusive tattoos, marks of rank and station, affiliation and family. His legs and arms were bare, but for a white cloth that wound around his limbs. With hair cropped short, his features were almost wild. As he moved, expressions darted across his face as if naked and unashamed.

The dance began. The man pirouetted with raw emotion and stunning athleticism, spinning on the spot, ending in a still but strangely contorted position. His hands pointed in the air, and this was where ambiguity cost lives. It could have been a gesture of supplication or prayer. He could have been giving thanks to the sky that had brought them, or pointing as if wishing they would dive back into the sky that had let them through.

All the while, his face twisted. Eyes seemed to roll. There was nothing to latch onto, no one emotion, nothing human.

Even so, Cassidy knew what it meant. They were going to die.

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