Read Online Alien Honor (A Fenris Novel) by Vaughn Heppner - Free Book Online
Authors: Vaughn Heppner
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bluff his way through, or he could tell the man the truth. Why not—he was supposed to be a Special now, an untouchable.
“You read I came from the slums?” Cyrus asked.
Argon nodded.
“I was a Latin King,” Cyrus said, “an illegal gang member. I started out as a scrawny kid with nothing, but even scrawny kids have to eat.”
“You could have eaten at the orphanage, but you ran away.”
“You ever been raised in an orphanage?” Cyrus asked.
“I’ll ask the questions,” Argon told him.
“Just saying, you know. It’s not like you think. We were defenseless kids with nothing but our pure bodies. The headmaster sold us to perverts, who liked to do nasty, vile things. Yeah, I ran away. If I could now, I’d go back and kill every headmaster that sold a kid and I’d do the same to the perverts.”
The information did nothing to Argon’s manner. He continued to watch and study. He said, “You’re a Special. You have a greater purpose now.”
“You’re missing my point. I had to eat and I wasn’t going to sell myself to pervs. So I ran Dust for the Latin Kings. Later, I became a foot soldier, a fighter. The cops didn’t like us.” Cyrus shrugged. “You remind me of them cops.”
“You’re not in the slums anymore.”
“That’s right,” Cyrus said.
“So why talk as if you belong there?”
“Seeing you reminds me of the old days,” Cyrus said.
“What do you think about Premier Lang?”
Cyrus understood then that
they
monitored the interview: his pulse rate, breathing speed, eye movement and other bodily functions. Speaking the truth was his best bet because they’d likely know when he lied. He’d already started out telling the truth, so he might as well continue.
“I don’t think about him much,” Cyrus said.
“Aren’t you grateful for what he did for you?”
A trace of a smile appeared on Cyrus’s face. “Lang didn’t do anything for me. He passed some laws because the world needs Specials. So here I am. If I didn’t have any talent, I’d still be in Level 40.”
“Do you hate Premier Lang?”
“No.”
“Do you wish him dead?”
“No.”
“Are you in league with any organization that plots his overthrow?”
“No.”
“Are you willing to endure hardship to reach New Eden?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have any ulterior motives for volunteering?”
“Yes,” Cyrus said.
“What are they?”
“I plan to skip ship and stay on one of the planets. I’ll find a wife and start a family.”
Argon paused, and those intense eyes watched him closely. He put down the e-reader and continued to study Cyrus. Something approaching a smile stretched the chief monitor’s lips.
“I will squash any mutiny,” Argon said. “I will obliterate those who plot against Premier Lang. You don’t lie, which is refreshing. Continue to think of me as a cop, and you will do well, Special. You may go.”
“No more questions?”
“You have passed my test. I can work with you.”
Cyrus blinked once, wondering why Argon didn’t ask other questions. Instead of thinking about it, he got up, found the door unlocked, and walked down the hall to the waiting teacher. Honesty had worked. How novel.
PART II:
VOYAGE
1
For Cyrus, life aboard Teleship
Discovery
settled into an intense schedule of work, training, and enduring increasing suspicion from the monitors and shift crew.
He had his own room. That was good. Many of the crew and all the space marines slept in “shelves” that were akin to coffins. He couldn’t have taken that and often dreamed of the monitors forcing him into one, closing it, and locking him in. They would talk to him then, telling him he’d stay in there for the duration of the mission. Those sleeping quarters didn’t allow a man to sit up. It would have driven him mad.
In the waking world, Cyrus spent far too much time in his room, watching the screen showing the expansive verandas of Earth. He had his favorite: it showed an eagle soaring over the Kiev
“You read I came from the slums?” Cyrus asked.
Argon nodded.
“I was a Latin King,” Cyrus said, “an illegal gang member. I started out as a scrawny kid with nothing, but even scrawny kids have to eat.”
“You could have eaten at the orphanage, but you ran away.”
“You ever been raised in an orphanage?” Cyrus asked.
“I’ll ask the questions,” Argon told him.
“Just saying, you know. It’s not like you think. We were defenseless kids with nothing but our pure bodies. The headmaster sold us to perverts, who liked to do nasty, vile things. Yeah, I ran away. If I could now, I’d go back and kill every headmaster that sold a kid and I’d do the same to the perverts.”
The information did nothing to Argon’s manner. He continued to watch and study. He said, “You’re a Special. You have a greater purpose now.”
“You’re missing my point. I had to eat and I wasn’t going to sell myself to pervs. So I ran Dust for the Latin Kings. Later, I became a foot soldier, a fighter. The cops didn’t like us.” Cyrus shrugged. “You remind me of them cops.”
“You’re not in the slums anymore.”
“That’s right,” Cyrus said.
“So why talk as if you belong there?”
“Seeing you reminds me of the old days,” Cyrus said.
“What do you think about Premier Lang?”
Cyrus understood then that
they
monitored the interview: his pulse rate, breathing speed, eye movement and other bodily functions. Speaking the truth was his best bet because they’d likely know when he lied. He’d already started out telling the truth, so he might as well continue.
“I don’t think about him much,” Cyrus said.
“Aren’t you grateful for what he did for you?”
A trace of a smile appeared on Cyrus’s face. “Lang didn’t do anything for me. He passed some laws because the world needs Specials. So here I am. If I didn’t have any talent, I’d still be in Level 40.”
“Do you hate Premier Lang?”
“No.”
“Do you wish him dead?”
“No.”
“Are you in league with any organization that plots his overthrow?”
“No.”
“Are you willing to endure hardship to reach New Eden?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have any ulterior motives for volunteering?”
“Yes,” Cyrus said.
“What are they?”
“I plan to skip ship and stay on one of the planets. I’ll find a wife and start a family.”
Argon paused, and those intense eyes watched him closely. He put down the e-reader and continued to study Cyrus. Something approaching a smile stretched the chief monitor’s lips.
“I will squash any mutiny,” Argon said. “I will obliterate those who plot against Premier Lang. You don’t lie, which is refreshing. Continue to think of me as a cop, and you will do well, Special. You may go.”
“No more questions?”
“You have passed my test. I can work with you.”
Cyrus blinked once, wondering why Argon didn’t ask other questions. Instead of thinking about it, he got up, found the door unlocked, and walked down the hall to the waiting teacher. Honesty had worked. How novel.
PART II:
VOYAGE
1
For Cyrus, life aboard Teleship
Discovery
settled into an intense schedule of work, training, and enduring increasing suspicion from the monitors and shift crew.
He had his own room. That was good. Many of the crew and all the space marines slept in “shelves” that were akin to coffins. He couldn’t have taken that and often dreamed of the monitors forcing him into one, closing it, and locking him in. They would talk to him then, telling him he’d stay in there for the duration of the mission. Those sleeping quarters didn’t allow a man to sit up. It would have driven him mad.
In the waking world, Cyrus spent far too much time in his room, watching the screen showing the expansive verandas of Earth. He had his favorite: it showed an eagle soaring over the Kiev
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