Shadowkill

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“I hadn’t thought of that, Ro, it was such a simple change and so obvious, once he said it. It was worth whatever trouble this chatting business put me to. Besides, I liked the man, I already liked talking to him. I did what he said, we caught the jacal, Digby got enough on the one who hired him, a turd named Tambaedee, to scare him off, and the rest you know.”

Omphalos was using the same android every time they came for him; it had a scratch underneath its right vision-lens which gave it a rakish look, almost like a dueling scar. He was sure they were keeping it on full-cycle, twice he’d seen signs it was near saturation, a faint hesitation in its movements, a sluggishness in its responses. The first time was before he had the stunrod, the second time they made him strip in the cell before they took him out, they were taking him to a special session in the lab, so he had to leave the rod behind.

Now he was cultivating a hunter’s patience, waiting quietly till all three factors clicked in.

It would happen soon. Had to be soon. Before they gave up on Miralys and moved him to Black House.

The Grand Chom was away, they said. How true that was Rohant didn’t know. Or where. Or what had happened to him.

There was a restiveness in the place that was connected with the Chom’s absence. Something has gone wrong for them; they can’t figure what, but they feel things aren’t right. He knew that nervousness, it was the kind that passed through a herd when a predator was eying them.

He had to get out of here.

Soon.