The Game of Fox and Lion by Robert R. Chase

Author:Robert R. Chase [Chase, Robert R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Del Rey
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Ten

The outer airlock door of the Shere Khan slid open, allowing the residual air to puff out. Benedict felt it tug at him, trying to pull him out into the bottomless interstellar blackness. His breathing sounded unnaturally loud in the confines of his pressure suit.

As his eyes adjusted, he made out the black shape of the other ship floating without apparent motion against a scattering of stars. Still, he did not spot the grapple until a second before it hit and magnetically clamped onto the hull of the Shere Khan.

“I’m going now,” he said.

“Sir, we can stay on station until you return. I think Master Chiang would prefer that.” Captain Faoud's voice sounded anxious in Benedict’s earphones.

“Belay that, Captain. No need to tie your crew up out here indefinitely. My hosts will get in touch when negotiations have been concluded.”

Benedict pushed himself off and grabbed the line. He had expected that he would have to pull himself hand over hand to the other ship. Apparently though, they could see him, for as soon as his hand touched the line, it began to reel itself in. Benedict, his weight off-center, started to swing around it. For one terrifying instant, vertigo had hold of him. The Shere Khan circled below/ behind/above him. The line seemed intent on throwing him off spinning into the void.

He closed his eyes and held on, forcing his breathing into the meditation pattern he had learned as a novice. He had returned to calm by the time hands reached out and pulled him into the airlock.

Benedict removed his helmet as soon as he was inside the craft and regarded his companions. Intelligent brown eyes surrounded by auburn fur looked back at him. The lips pulled back in what might have been intended for a smile, revealing disturbingly sharp teeth. There was a heavy, wet, slightly acrid smell in the air.

“Paul Niccolo Renard.”

“Yes,” Benedict said. “You can check that with a retinal scan or skin sample.”

“There is no need. Come with us.” Unceremoniously, the two Bestials grabbed his arms and thrust his weightless form through a hatchway.

He seemed to be in an alcove lined with overly large file drawers. Briefly, he thought of a morgue. Then he saw the dials by each handle.

“Get in,” one of the Bestials directed, gesturing to an open cold-sleep capsule. “We will be traveling in Space4.”

Benedict complied, letting them cinch the straps around him and administer the preliminary injections. Only when the anesthetic mask was placed on his face and the smell of Bestial became overpoweringly strong did he experience a moment of claustrophobic panic. That passed almost—

—immediately. Something else was wrong, though. He felt a pressure over every centimeter of his skin, as if a body were lying atop him. With an effort, he opened his eyes. He could see nothing to account for the sensation. Benedict tried to sit up. Nothing happened.

Darkly furred hands grasped him beneath his armpits and pulled him upright. Brilliant, soundless fireworks exploded across his field of vision. For an instant he nearly fainted.

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