Page 71 of Seven Oars
That was all Rosamma knew, and that was all she needed to know.
She’d been busted.
But she’d come this far, and technically, the Striker had given the women permission to roam.
The figure was motionless.
Emboldened by his lack of advance in her direction, Rosamma concentrated on the Meat Locker’s door.
“You’re looking for the girl.” The statement floated on the wisps of smoke, the voice low and oddly beguiling.
Of all the pirates, it had to behim. And he knew about Daphne.
Rosamma’s heart sank.
Oh, Gods, please let her be alive. Please let her be whole.
Rosamma didn’t acknowledge the Striker’s statement. She had no words that would sway him.She had no words for him, period.
She wanted to run back to the Cargo Hold so badly she could taste it. But not without Daphne.
A fleeting glance confirmed he still hadn’t moved.
She took hold of the chrome lever and pushed it down.
It didn’t budge.
“Such effort, weak one,” he taunted her softly.“What will you do if she isn’t inside?”
Despite the distance separating them and the din of the space station, she heard each word, picked up every inflection.
He had a smooth way of speaking their bastardized version of Universal, with rounded vowels and no nasal overtones. In an odd twist, the smoothness only enhanced the terrifying aspect of his hypnotic voice.
Frantic now, Rosamma pressed the lever harder. She knew the door wasn’t locked, but the latch wouldn’t respond to her feeble efforts.
“What will you do if she is inside? Will you go in?”
Heaving a dry sob, Rosamma yanked at the lever.
A shadow passed over her. Her insides shrank in foreboding.
The lever gave way, and the door swung open.
Daphne was sitting on the floor inside the Meat Locker. Her lips were blue from the cold, but she didn’t seem bothered by to it. Her eyes skipped over Rosamma without recognition.
She was busy.With her untrimmed nail, she picked off tiny chunks of icy fat from Father Zha-Ikkel’s flank and flicked them. Scraped and flicked, leaving deep scratches in the dead flesh.
Rosamma bent over and threw up the pasteurized gelatinous soup she’d had for lunch.
When it was over, she looked over her shoulder.
She was alone, and the smoke didn’t seem as heavy.
*****
“Thank God you’re back!” Gro smothered Rosamma in a hug after she fussed over the indifferent Daphne and opened a can of food for her to eat.“I was about to go look for you too.”
“No worries. I am glad I found her,” Rosamma said.
