Read Online A Fistful of Dust by Sharon Bidwell - Free Book Online Page A

took a deep breath. The artificial oxygen was unpleasant, but not toxic. When quite certain she was of sound mind, she called to the others. She had to make them understand they could not trust their emotions, their own senses. If she failed, at least one of them might not make it back to the ship.
    7.
    “ARE YOU THREATENING me?” Highmore’s gaze flicked from Arnaud’s face to the wrench he held.
    At any other time, Arnaud would have said no. He had no desire to scuffle with another man…at least not in this type of situation. He shrugged, swinging the wrench lazily. “I was just doing a little exploring down here.”
    “Not your field, Fontaine. You belong underground.” Highmore wasn’t talking about a cave. Buried was more like it.
    “I may need a wrench to repair whatever damage you caused.” In truth, he had stumbled across the tool and picked it up as the only defence he had.
    “Damage? Moi ?” Highmore used the French word as if to mock him. “What makes you think I would know how to damage anything any more than you would know how to repair it? Ahh…but then I can see that you do know something of how all this works. Which is a pity, for ignorance would better serve self-preservation.”
    “I have no idea how this all works. As you say, I belong elsewhere. This…” Arnaud spread his arms, gesturing to the somewhat cavernous space they currently occupied. “ Non . This is Nathaniel’s domain.”
    “And I’m sure he’s taught you a thing or two.”
    Arnaud almost said it was the other way around, but stopped himself in time. Highmore would not be the only one surprised over the things Nathaniel knew. “What did you do?”
    “I see no point in denial. A cable here. A cable there. A venting system is apparently not that difficult to interfere with.”
    As he finished speaking, Highmore moved so fast Arnaud barely had time to bring up the wrench. The only thing it did was to prevent Highmore braining him with his cane, although Fontaine felt grateful for even that small mercy. The wood and metal connected. Both spun away. His hands and arms went numb. Unfortunately, the impact didn’t seem to have quite the same effect on Highmore. At any other time, Arnaud would at least have been the man’s equal, but something magnified the man’s anger.
    Arnaud managed to land Highmore a good clip on the jaw, which fazed Highmore not one bit. The man was fuelled with rage…and something more.
    Fear, Fontaine realised, although he could not understand the cause of it, and now was not the time. Highmore had managed to get his hands around Arnaud’s throat. Instead of trying to drag the man’s hands away, Arnaud punched him in the face.
    8.
    “WHAT DO YOU make of it?”
    “I don’t know,” Nathaniel replied to Annabelle’s question. “The sheer size…” He couldn’t take accurate measurements. The two straight lengths appeared to have no markings on them. The curved side…had engravings. “I’d say this is a language of some kind.”
    “Like hieroglyphs?”
    “Similar, yes, but this is more a mixture of words and symbols. Picture-grams as well as written language. Perhaps designed so that more than one species or manner of beings could understand it?”
    “Professor Stone, begging your pardon, sah . We must get back.”
    “Yes.” It was time to go and assimilate all that he’d taken in. He’d learned something important here, but he was damned if he knew what. He missed Arnaud. Would have liked to share this with him. He wondered what the geologist was doing right now.
    9.
    HIGHMORE COULD VERY well throttle him. Arnaud had punched the man twice to no effect. He couldn’t pry Highmore’s fingers loose. His hands were like steel traps. He had two choices. One was a head butt to the man’s forehead. Arnaud chose the other. He lunged and kissed him.
    Highmore reared back, cursed, spat, wiped his mouth with the back of one hand…and seemed to come out of whatever had possessed him.
    “What