Free The Prison in Antares by Mike Resnick

confirmed.
    â€œOkay. Talk to you in a few minutes.” He turned to Ortega. “No change. Go in first and—”
    â€œKill them,” said Ortega.
    â€œNo sense taking chances,” agreed Pretorius. “And if they ever catch us, they won’t hang us any higher for killing seven than killing five.”
    Ortega climbed the stairs to the hatch and entered the ship. Within twenty seconds he called back that both Antareans were dead.
    â€œOkay,” said Pretorius. He turned to Circe, Proto, and Irish. “Follow me, and remember, there’s still something alive in there. A pet, an alien of a different race, some thing.”
    The four of them entered the ship, which was minimally more spacious than their own vessel, and began looking around the bridge.
    â€œCan you sense where the other one is?” Pretorius asked Circe.
    She shook her head. “Not yet, Nathan.”
    â€œNot much weaponry,” noted Pretorius. “I wonder if the computer is worth a damn?”
    â€œBeats me,” said Ortega.
    Circe frowned and leaned against a bulkhead.
    â€œAre you all right?” asked Irish.
    â€œJust a little dizzy spell, I think,” she replied.
    â€œYou want to sit down?” asked Pretorius.
    â€œNo,” said Circe, still frowning. “Maybe a drink of water.” Then: “The Antareans do drink water, don’t they?”
    â€œYeah, they do.”
    â€œThen one of these cabins much have at least a sink,” she said, reaching for a door handle. “I’ll just get a sip and I’ll be just—”
    As Circe opened the door there was a hideous growl and something dark and scaly hurled itself at her, jaws spread apart, needle-sharp teeth closing on her throat, ripping through the flesh. She screamed and fell backward, blood spurting straight up, as the creature raked her shoulders and torso with razor-sharp claws. She uttered one more gurgling scream and shuddered convulsively, as Ortega pulled the creature from her and pulverized it with a single blow atop its head.
    Pretorius and Irish knelt down next to Circe, looking for some sign of life. Finally Irish shook her head.
    â€œShe’s gone,” she said.
    â€œDamn, that was fast!” muttered Ortega.
    Pretorius kept searching for a heartbeat, but couldn’t find one.
    Finally he looked up at Ortega.
    â€œI’m not going to bury her on an alien planet,” he said. “Find something to wrap her in. We’ll jettison her into space after we’re out of this system and before we enter Coalition territory.”
    Ortega nodded his head, and Pretorius contacted Pandora to tell her what had transpired.
    â€œSo much for never losing a team member,” remarked Snake in the background.

11
    â€œWhat the hell happened?” asked Pandora as Pretorius and his party returned to the ship.
    â€œWatchdog, watchcat, watch- something ,” muttered Ortega.
    â€œShe was uneasy, but she couldn’t spot it,” added Pretorius.
    â€œBut if she was an empath, surely she could sense that something wanted to kill her,” persisted Pandora.
    â€œI don’t know,” said Pretorius. “Maybe it was so alien she couldn’t read it. Maybe it felt eager or happy to attack someone.” He shrugged. “These things happen.”
    â€œYou don’t sound all that upset by it,” said Snake.
    â€œOf course I’m upset,” replied Pretorius. “We needed her. You know that from the Michkag operation. It’s not as if human empaths grow on trees.”
    â€œYou’re upset that we no longer have an empath,” persisted Snake, “not that a friend has died.”
    â€œShut up!” snapped Pretorius. “Of course she was a friend. This is war, goddammit, and people take risks in war, and sometimes those risks don’t work out.”
    Nobody spoke for a long moment. Finally Pandora spoke up.
    â€œWhat now?” she