Read Online Turning Point by Lisanne Norman - Free Book Online

...”
    The rest of his sentence was strangled as the officer turned and reached out, grabbing him by the throat and lifting him half a meter into the air.
    â€œSo, you have all the time,” hissed the officer, giving Jim a slight shake. “Waste our time. Give now!”
    Jim, turning a distinct shade of blue, scrabbled at his right hand trouser pocket and drew out a small translucent cube.
    Letting his gun swing free, the Valtegan took the object from him and examined it perfunctorily.
    â€œWhy we don’t get sooner?”
    â€œI’d gotten it back for you, I just hadn’t had time to hand it over.” His voice was hoarse and barely audible as he tried to hang onto the Valtegan’s arm. “I’ll be quicker next time!”
    â€œNo next time,” hissed the Valtegan. “You no use now.”
    He tightened his grip, nonretractable claws pressing sharp tips into the man’s throat.
    Jim scrabbled frantically at the clawed hand, trying to prize it open, but inexorably it closed.
    The claws punctured his throat, sending blood flowing down the Valtegan’s hand and arm. The man twitched several times before his head lolled limply and he hung in midair like a broken doll.
    â€œMessy,” hissed the Valtegan with distaste before opening his hand and casting the body to one side. Blood splattered around the room.
    With a sharp word in his own language, he turned and walked out of the Inn, the other three soldiers following him.
    â€œGet the women out of here,” said Carrie’s father, breaking the horrified silence.
    She could taste the metallic smell of blood in her mouth.
    â€œBlood follows me around,” she said dazedly to Richard as he took her by the arm and pulled her toward their private quarters. “Tell me it’s only a nightmare and that soon I’ll wake up,” she pleaded, stumbling after him.
    â€œGod knows, I wish I could, love,” he said, keeping the door open for Kusac to follow them. “I’m afraid it’s all too real and there is no escape.”
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    About an hour later Richard came up to her room. He found her lying hunched up on her bed.
    â€œCome on, love,” he said, putting an arm around her shoulders and helping her to sit up.
    â€œEveryone’s gone now. Dad wants us in his office.”
    Their father got up from his desk as they entered. His usually somber face was lit with something akin to excitement. He was a good man, but one rarely given to showing his emotions.
    â€œOne of our contacts from Seaport was at the Inn tonight. I managed to get some information from him regarding the object the Valtegans were looking for.
    â€œApparently they did shoot down an Alien craft. It was a light scouter, large enough to carry about eight people—given our morphology. When they reached the crash site, the Valtegans found the scouter on fire, but they suspect that several of the crew managed to escape.”
    â€œDo they know what the crew looked like?” asked Richard, escorting Carrie to a chair.
    â€œNo. The fire virtually gutted the craft. Any bodies were too charred to be of use, but they did find that crystal cube amongst the wreckage. I want to know what it’s for.”
    Carrie began to come to life again as she felt a faint wave of relief from her friend.
    â€œDid our contact have this information verified?” she asked.
    â€œNot all of it,” her father admitted, “but the guerrillas were able to piece it together from what they did find out, and they did have the cube for a few days.”
    â€œWhat exactly did they see?”
    â€œTheir precise words aren’t important,” said her father irritably. “What matters is that there are Aliens.”
    â€œHas anyone actually seen either the wreck or these Aliens?” insisted Carrie.
    â€œYes, they’ve seen the wreck!” snapped her father. “Really, Carrie, you’re in a strange mood! I