Free A Thousand Words For Stranger (10th Anniversary Edition) by Julie E. Czerneda

you call it, will not keep me from eating his-ss heart!”
    Smegard’s lips twisted into a sneer. “You keep wasting time here, Morgan won’t need luck. Dispose of your Kissue; help me with this. The car’s waiting below.” The Recruiter turned his broad back to us, returning to his packing.
    Whether this was bravado or stupidity, I would never know, for the tip of Roraqk’s pistol raised ever-so-slightly and he fired before I could even think a warning.
    “This-ss raid was-ss the lasst of your blunders-ss, mammal,” the pirate spat as he sheathed his weapon and again pressed his clawed hand against the wound in his chest. I trembled, trying to look anywhere but at the beheaded corpse as it rustled papers and toppled objects on its way to the floor. As Roraqk laughed at his own humor, spittle flung from his jaws and splashed on my cheek. I flinched as his black tongue followed to retrieve it, leaving a burning trail on my skin.
     
Roraqk knew his way, without hesitation activating a second hidden lift that plummeted us down. I fought the inclinations of my abused stomach and endured in numb silence. The lift settled, its door opening into a large ground-car hangar.
    The conflict hadn’t reached this far, not yet. Hirelings milled about the groundcars, all armed, some wearing pieces of body armor; their expressions at the sight of us ranged from hopeful defiance to resigned fear. Roraqk called for a driver and guard as he headed toward a midsized vehicle already poised near the doors. The pirate’s orders were obeyed instantly, without question, certainly with obvious relief on the part of the chosen pair.
    Smegard’s absence and Roraqk’s flight were enough for the rest. Some faded out other doors, some began to climb into groundcars. Armor was abandoned; weapons were not.
    Roraqk’s guardsman dropped in beside the driver, activating a control that moved the opaque dome over our heads and locked it into place, effectively blinding us as well as hiding us from view. Our groundcar rolled through the doors decorously, pausing a moment as if waiting for a break in some traffic outside that I couldn’t see, then slipping forward and away.
    I didn’t need to see out. We were heading for the shipcity—and the starships. I knew by the return of that growing pressure in my thoughts. It wasn’t my choice. I could tell that much, even if I couldn’t completely separate what was mine from its influence. And that detached, other set of thoughts cared only about the need to reach a ship, whether transported by this murderer or not. I decided glumly the decisions it forced into my mind could become serious risks to my future, assuming I had a future to risk.

INTERLUDE
    “Haven’t seen her.” Thel Masim’s glance at the image plate in Morgan’s hand had been brief, but he didn’t question her ability to place faces. The woman’s recall abilities were legendary, an asset to her job managing traffic into and out of the shipcity, if less valued by those trying to claim improper fees. Many underestimated the intellect behind her small gleaming eyes and confused the kindness she granted so liberally to strangers with gullibility. Morgan did neither.
    “Thanks. Call me if she shows up before I lift, okay?” He peered over her ample shoulder at the screens. From this small room, Thel had access to vids at every entrance as well as those attached to each of Auord’s fleet of docking tugs. By custom, there was no surveillance equipment set up around the ships themselves. After all, many were homes as well as transport.
    “What’s going on there?” Morgan pointed at the screen second to the right. Thel pulled the feed into her central viewer, enlarging it until they could both see the developing snarl in traffic.
    “Query sent,” she muttered. The screens flickered from moment to moment as Thel and her partners along the ship way exchanged viewpoints. Morgan blinked his eyes, fighting a feeling of vertigo. Voices