Page 37 of Wanted By the Alien Warden

“Sleep. And do not worry about me,” he said, every inch of him exuding authority. He handed me the finished top and then went back to collect all his other stuff from the floor.

“Zabrians,” he said, as he rose and strode for the door, “have excellent stamina.”

He paused in the doorway, then over his shoulder, he rather smugly added, “You can put that in your book. Goodnight.”

11

RIVVEN

Ibalanced the empty glass on the blunt end of my right wrist and I polished it with a spare rag in my left hand. The push and pull of the fabric across the glass’ surface removed layers of dust and revealed more and more of my wrist and forearm within. Pale blue healthy hide. Thick arteries and bunching muscle. And the knot of black scar tissue where the wrist abruptly ended, directly below the place where my hand had once been.

Once I was satisfied with the glass’ cleanliness, I inverted my arm, aiming my wrist downwards so that the glass could slide off and stand in the row alongside all the others I’d already cleaned today. The glass landed with a quietthwunkon the wooden surface of my saloon’s bar. Without even having to look, my tail was already reaching behind me to the drying rack where yet more glasses – washed, but now in need of polishing – were waiting. Sun streamed in through the big windows at the front of the building, illuminating the single rectangular table with its various mismatched chairs in the centre of the saloon.

In some ways, it was an entirely typical morning.

In other ways, it was not.

Because today, the warden had summoned the other convicts in our province to meet him here. It was not unusual for Xennet and Dorn to come to the saloon, or even the warden himself, from time to time. They were the ones who’d eventually be drinking out of the polished glasses and eating the meals I made.

But it was rare for all of us to congregate here on the same day, summoned as we had been by the warden.

“Am I late?”

The chaotic crashing of the saloon’s door being thrust wildly open made it almost impossible to hear Xennet’s question. He careened into the room like a spooked shuldu.

“Xennet,” I said calmly, “why have you got a knife in your hand?”

“What? Oh.” Xennet glanced down at the large blade clutched in his pale green fingers. “It is not just my hand!” Hoisting his tail, he brandished yet another blade, the handle held fast by the curling green length.

With a sigh, I aimed my own tail at theNo brandishing weapons insidesign behind my counter. It was one of many such signs, which also included other useful – and where Xennet was concerned, relevant – rules such asKeep your trousersonandNo pissing in the glasses.

“You know I can’t read that,” Xennet huffed. He had been one of the youngest among us when convicted and taken from his place at the Zabrian Academy.

“I know. But I also know you’ve got the rules memorized for how often I remind you of them,” I muttered in reply. “If you want to flail your knives around, take them outside.”

“I am not flailing them around,” he replied indignantly, whipping his weaponized tail in a direct contravention of what he’d just said. “I am simply being prepared.”

“Prepared for what? Why are you armed to the fangs for a meeting with Dorn and the warden?”

“Because,” he hissed, crossing the distance between us, his heavy boots thumping across the dusty wooden planks of the floor. His eyes glowed bright white beneath the brim of his hat. “It could be a trap.”

Empire help me.

“You think the warden,ourwarden,” I said slowly, to make sure I didn’t let Xennet miss even a single speck of the stupidity of what he’d just said, “has set a trap for us?”

I eyed his two knives, knowing he no doubt had more of them hidden on his person. “And if that were the case, do you really think you’d be fast enough with those things to avoid a stunner blast to the guts?”

Warden Hallum had extensive military training. Between that experience and the superior might of his stunner, there would be no contest between Xennet and him.

“What if it wasn’t Warden Hallum?” Xennet whispered loudly. “What if it was someone else, imitating his voice and spoofing his data tab’s address? They could be asking all of us to gather here for some nefarious purpose.”

“Such as…”

“Such as… Such as dropping something heavy on the roof and making it collapse on us.” He cast his white eyes up at the beams suspiciously.

“And if this roof collapse were to happen, what, exactly, will the knives do to protect you?”

“Well, I hadn’t thought quite that far. But maybe I could sort of…” He stopped speaking in order to prioritize a physical demonstration of how he might fight off a body-crushing wooden beam with nothing but his blades.

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