Vortex by Anne Wheeler

Author:Anne Wheeler [Wheeler, Anne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Anne Wheeler

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

NIMBUS STATION, ETRIK

The knock on her door woke Coralie from the deepest sleep she’d had in a long time. With a moan, she clicked on a light and grabbed a fresh jumpsuit. There was another knock, harder this time, and when she opened the door, belatedly wondering why she would do so for anyone on Nimbus Station, Kinnard stood in the corridor, arms folded across his chest.

“We’re going on a trip,” he said. “Get dressed.”

“A trip?” She raised a brow as she zipped the suit the rest of the way up. “We’re allowed vacations on Nimbus Station now?”

He gave her a look as he waved a few sterile kits in a clear bag at her, though the gesture didn’t appear altogether hostile. “To Triumph. I have some business there, and it may take some time. I’d like you to accompany me in case it does.”

Coralie pressed her palm against her forehead. Too much light, not enough sleep or coffee. And was—was Kinnard afraid for her safety here?

“You’re being rather polite about this,” she replied, surprised by her own boldness. “What’s the occasion?”

“I could be rude, if you’d prefer. But I would think you’d be grateful to not be left alone here without my protection.”

She gave him a resigned nod. Kinnard pointed outside, and she followed along after a wistful glance at the coffeemaker. Silently, too, for the last vestiges of sleep were fading away, and Kinnard’s silver eyes were becoming clearer in the hallway’s illumination. Besides, though she didn’t want to be around him at all, if he was going to be polite to her over some misplaced fear of her death, well, she wouldn’t argue with him.

He led her to a chamber on an upper deck that she’d only visited once during her initial fire detector inspection. Nothing had been at the dock there that day, but today there sat a small orbital shuttle, its engine whirring in the gold of an Etrik sunrise.

Coralie took a step back from its open door. Wherever the shuttle had come from, it was unlikely it had been well-enough maintained to safely make the voyage to Triumph and back. The v-words didn’t care about trite things like pressurizing and oxygen.

“Is this safe?” she asked.

“It’s Triumph’s. Just get on board.” Kinnard fixed her with a glare. “I don’t intend to kill you yet.”

I don’t intend to kill you yet.

She shuffled inside and chose the first seat by the hatch, her pacemaker firing when her actual heart skipped a beat. Did that mean he intended to kill her later?

Of course not. It was simply a phrase. Kinnard, she was certain, didn’t think that much about the effect his words had on her.

Still, her blood ran cold as five security individuals tromped aboard behind her. The armored shirts they wore—protection which had seemed perfectly normal on Mars—was bad enough, but they were each carrying pistols, like they expected to meet an alien invasion up in space. The last one inside locked the hatch, and though

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