chill.
His smile vanished, replaced this time by anger. "It doesn't matter what you want, slut! It is not your choice to make. I shall have you—my only regret is that I must wait until I return before it happens."
Juete felt cold settle into her, an icy sensation that sheathed her like a splash of liquid air. Kamaaj reached out again and cupped her breast with one thin hand.
She made no move to prevent it. He kneaded her breast, not gently, pinching the nipple until it stirred and erected under his thumb and forefinger. "Already your body desires me. I know you people. You may hate me with your mind, but your flesh aches for my touch. Soon, my sweet child—soon."
He stroked her face once, using one finger, then walked away.
He was right. She hated him, she hated all of them who used her and her kind as sexual toys, without any thought for the mind behind the desirable body. But she also could not deny her genetic code, and he was right about the desire. The flesh was weak; it had been programmed to be so, and it would always remain so.
As Karnaaj's footsteps died away, Juete turned and saw Stark standing in the doorway to his office. She was an expert on human emotion; she could read body language like a basic primer. The look on his face held fear, rage, jealousy, and lust. She had seen the latter three on him before, but the first, fear, was new.
Despite the precariousness of her situation, she enjoyed seeing Stark afraid. She started toward him, wondering how much of what Karnaaj had said she would tell her current jailer. All of it, she decided. That would make him worry even more, and he deserved all the worry she could provide him.
Scanner had duty in the library again, but he sent Chameleon to tell Maro about the Zonn. Maro was working an ancient floor buffer over the worn wood of the dining hall. The machine's robotics kept sticking in a diagonal pattern, and he had to stop every few minutes to reprogram the correct sequence.
Chameleon looked ten years younger than when Maro had seen him last. His hair was red now, and little more than a fuzzy cap. His eyes had turned green.
"Nobody knows what the Zonn looked like or where they went," Chameleon told him. "Scattered around the galaxy are ten cities like the one the Cage is built around, mostly high-walled. If they left anything else, half a million years took care of it. That's how long the scientists figure they've been gone.
"Scanner says he's checking on that stuff you told him about. Seems there are some interesting experiments going on as to the exact nature of the Zonn walls. I dunno all the technical shit he spouted, but he says we're dealing with energy more than mass, and your comment about the Bender fits right in. He also says the impossible might take a little longer."
Maro grinned. The buffer started off on a tangent again, and he went to stop it.
He punched in the code once more, and after a few seconds the machine resumed its back-and-forth pattern. Beneath its brushes the floor gleamed dully.
"But there's bad news, too," the face dancer continued. "Karnaaj just left, and the word is that you are to go into the Zonn Chamber."
"What's that?"
Chameleon shivered theatrically. "Nobody knows for sure. It's the only place in the prison that is completely enclosed by Zonn material. Some rooms have incorporated one or two walls, but the Zonn Chamber has four, plus the floor.
The only way in or out is through a door in the ceiling, which is man-made.
People put inside go crazy after a little while. It does something to your mind."
"What?"
Chameleon shrugged. "The ones who just went in and came right out talked about nightmares and visions. The ones left in for a while don't talk about anything—anything that makes sense, that is."
"The Demon Graveyard," Maro said softly.
"What?"
"Nothing. Just something I learned once about concentration."
"Yeah, well. Scanner says to come by the library when you get off; he wants to talk to
His smile vanished, replaced this time by anger. "It doesn't matter what you want, slut! It is not your choice to make. I shall have you—my only regret is that I must wait until I return before it happens."
Juete felt cold settle into her, an icy sensation that sheathed her like a splash of liquid air. Kamaaj reached out again and cupped her breast with one thin hand.
She made no move to prevent it. He kneaded her breast, not gently, pinching the nipple until it stirred and erected under his thumb and forefinger. "Already your body desires me. I know you people. You may hate me with your mind, but your flesh aches for my touch. Soon, my sweet child—soon."
He stroked her face once, using one finger, then walked away.
He was right. She hated him, she hated all of them who used her and her kind as sexual toys, without any thought for the mind behind the desirable body. But she also could not deny her genetic code, and he was right about the desire. The flesh was weak; it had been programmed to be so, and it would always remain so.
As Karnaaj's footsteps died away, Juete turned and saw Stark standing in the doorway to his office. She was an expert on human emotion; she could read body language like a basic primer. The look on his face held fear, rage, jealousy, and lust. She had seen the latter three on him before, but the first, fear, was new.
Despite the precariousness of her situation, she enjoyed seeing Stark afraid. She started toward him, wondering how much of what Karnaaj had said she would tell her current jailer. All of it, she decided. That would make him worry even more, and he deserved all the worry she could provide him.
Scanner had duty in the library again, but he sent Chameleon to tell Maro about the Zonn. Maro was working an ancient floor buffer over the worn wood of the dining hall. The machine's robotics kept sticking in a diagonal pattern, and he had to stop every few minutes to reprogram the correct sequence.
Chameleon looked ten years younger than when Maro had seen him last. His hair was red now, and little more than a fuzzy cap. His eyes had turned green.
"Nobody knows what the Zonn looked like or where they went," Chameleon told him. "Scattered around the galaxy are ten cities like the one the Cage is built around, mostly high-walled. If they left anything else, half a million years took care of it. That's how long the scientists figure they've been gone.
"Scanner says he's checking on that stuff you told him about. Seems there are some interesting experiments going on as to the exact nature of the Zonn walls. I dunno all the technical shit he spouted, but he says we're dealing with energy more than mass, and your comment about the Bender fits right in. He also says the impossible might take a little longer."
Maro grinned. The buffer started off on a tangent again, and he went to stop it.
He punched in the code once more, and after a few seconds the machine resumed its back-and-forth pattern. Beneath its brushes the floor gleamed dully.
"But there's bad news, too," the face dancer continued. "Karnaaj just left, and the word is that you are to go into the Zonn Chamber."
"What's that?"
Chameleon shivered theatrically. "Nobody knows for sure. It's the only place in the prison that is completely enclosed by Zonn material. Some rooms have incorporated one or two walls, but the Zonn Chamber has four, plus the floor.
The only way in or out is through a door in the ceiling, which is man-made.
People put inside go crazy after a little while. It does something to your mind."
"What?"
Chameleon shrugged. "The ones who just went in and came right out talked about nightmares and visions. The ones left in for a while don't talk about anything—anything that makes sense, that is."
"The Demon Graveyard," Maro said softly.
"What?"
"Nothing. Just something I learned once about concentration."
"Yeah, well. Scanner says to come by the library when you get off; he wants to talk to
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