Chapter 29
Brook kept her head on a swivel as they made their way down the corridor. She quickly realized her actions would make her look even more suspicious, so she tried to act nonchalant. It was hard to pretend she wasn’t afraid when her heart was beating a mile a minute.
Stay calm, she told herself.We can do this. It’s the only chance we’ve got.
Brook had been beyond surprised when their tiny rescuer had shown up in her cell. And now they were on their own, following the yellow line as instructed and hoping to find the docking bay.
Suddenly a creature came around the corner. Brook had to try really hard not to recoil. The smell was the main thing that had her reeling. The closest thing she could equate it to was a clogged sink. The beast was big, the color yellow with darker spots, and had barbed spines running down its curved back. Its skin looked moist, like a dripping sponge, but the smell…God, the smell!
It seemed to pay them no attention. The beast gave them a once-over and kept walking.
When it disappeared out of sight behind them, Brook breathed a sigh of relief. But their reprieve was short-lived. They followed the yellow line as it led around another corner and there stood three creatures, perhaps the most horrifying she’d seen.
They all had the shape of a human. The same human. Danner Thompson, the head of NASA.
Three sets of identical eyes turned towards them. The one closest stepped forward. He had a clipboard in his hand. “Where are you going? And why have you taken those shapes?”
“The docking bay,” Ontarii barked. “And because we were ordered to.”
Clipboard Danner looked down at his list, his pen tapping against the sheet. “I don’t see any orders for two Zantharians and a human. Aren’t these the forms of our prisoners?”
The two other Danners drew closer. One pulled a long, thin stick about two inches in diameter from his back pocket. Brook wasn’t sure what it was, but it gave her a bad feeling.
“Orders just came through. You probably don’t have the latest version.”
The Danner with the stick hit a button and the end started to glow.Definitely a weapon.
“We’re to take the prisoner to the home world for interrogation,” Ontarii said swiftly.
“Prisoner? You’re all prisoners,” Danner #3 said, his tone harsh.
“This is the Minister of Defense of Zanthar,” Ontarii said, his voice like steel. “We are the escort. Now get the hell out of our way!”
“That doesn’t explain your shapes.”
“Doesn’t it?” Ontarii snarled. “We’ve been mounting a campaign of psychological warfare against the minister for weeks now. Unfortunately, he hasn’t cracked. He’s just become more distrustful and apathetic.”
Drake chimed in. “Can I go back to my cell? I don’t know what game you Hareema bastards are playing, but count me out.”
Clipboard Danner scowled. “You expect us to believe you’re escorting this prisoner to the home world for interrogation, and he’s not even in restraints?”
Ontarii got close to the shorter man, leaning in and using all his muscle mass to intimidate him. “Why bother with restraints? He’s so far gone he doesn’t even know where he is or who he’s with. We’ve scrambled his brains good. He’s not going to run.”
“I’m hungry,” Drake said, sliding into a crouch. “Let me get more of that fish paste stuff. It’s not half bad.”
“See what I mean?” Ontarii jerked his head in Drake’s direction. “He’s not going to fight us. But if you don’t let us pass, you will be hurt. Not by me, but by the High Council when they find out you were the one to hold him up.”
Clipboard Danner swallowed. Danner #2 looked at Danner #3 who nodded his head. Danner #2 clicked off his stick and stuffed it back in his pocket.
“I’ll make a note on my order roster, then get an update from HQ to make sure it’s up to date. Go ahead and proceed. Give the High Council my regards.” Clipboard Danner started scribbling on his list, ignoring them.
“I’ll tell the High Council what a sniveling little toad you are,” Ontarii muttered, grabbing Drake’s arm and dragging him down the hallway.
Brook jogged to catch up, finally letting go of the breath she’d been holding.
A few more twists and turns and the yellow line led them out into a chamber twice the size of the room holding the prison cells. The docking bay was enormous, and there were ships of every color, size, and shape. How would they locate the Zantharian shuttle?
“We could fan out,” she suggested, “look for the shuttle separately then meet up again.”
