Free The Sky Drifter by Paris Singer Page A

tone, tilting his head slightly. “Don’t you know it’s dangerous to be out at this hour by yourself?”
    “Shut up, Imago, and tell your goons to let me go.”
    “Watch your mouth,” he spat venomously. “Your hairy friend isn’t here to help you now.”
    “I keep telling you not to underestimate Iris, either,” I replied, causing One to burst out in laughter, which prompted the two Morex to follow suit.
    “Do you mean your colorful princess girlfriend?” he guffawed.  In one swift move, One stepped forward and placed his masked face directly in front of mine. “She can come at me any time she wants,” he said suggestively, closing his malicious eye to a slit beyond the hole in his mask.
    “ You shut up about her ,” I shouted, struggling in vain to free myself.
    “What’s this?” he mocked. “Suddenly think yourself brave, do you? Perhaps the situation you find yourself in has escaped you?” Taking a step back, One stated, “Let me clarify it for you.” He thrust his fist forward, twice ramming it into my gut. Stepping forward again, he grabbed hold of my hair and yanked my head up. “Do you now understand, Simian?”
    From behind me came the deep voice of one of his goons. “I hear something.”
    As if he hadn’t heard him, One continued to silently stare at me, a look of gleeful malice in his eye.
    “Someone’s coming,” persisted the Morex in an urgent whisper.
    “Are they close?” asked One without shifting his gaze.
    “Getting there,” replied his goon.
    One remained motionless for a moment, as if deliberating whether approaching voices were reason enough to stop his fun, then said, “It would appear luck is on your side, Simian. Feel free to tell your hairy friend what happened here, but know accidents can happen at any time. It’d be such a shame if something were to happen to your little girlfriend, don’t you think?”
    He let go of my hair and punched my stomach once more, for good measure. After the Morex let go of me, I fell to the ground in a pile, holding my gut, as I heard them rushing away into the shadows. Just then, their footsteps were replaced by those of two laughing students as they neared me. I slowly propped myself up as they approached and fell silent. I looked over to where I thought they stood and saw their silent silhouettes gazing at me.
    “ What are you looking at ?” I shouted in frustration, feeling on display.
    Their lanky, wavy frames slowly retreated until all I heard was the sound of fading footsteps, and then only silence.
    I picked myself up and slowly walked back to my quarters. I returned to the sounds of Ava playing a game on the display screen.
    “Welcome back, Seven,” she greeted. “I have acquired a new game. Would you like to play?”
    “Not now, Ava,” I snapped, heading into the kitchen.
    “Is everything okay, Seven?” she asked.
    “I don’t want to talk about it,” I replied, looking inside the chill cube for nothing in particular.
    “Tell me what has happened, Seven.”
    “I said I don’t want to talk about it!” I snapped and slammed the chill cube door closed. I walked back into the main room, turned the Hi-Fi on to some guitar blues and threw myself down onto my bed, turning to face the wall.
    A moment later, I heard a mechanical whirring move from behind me into the kitchen where it remained only briefly. Soon after, the sound moved back into the room, growing louder the closer it got, and stopped just behind me.
    “I made it myself, Seven,” came Ava’s voice.
     Curiosity getting the better of me, I turned to see a dusty, yellowed service bot Ava was supposed to use, but never had, standing beside my bed. It held a tall glass, which contained a thick, light pink liquid.
    “What’s this?” I asked.
    “It is a shake made from the pulp of dago fruit, Seven.” Ava replied as I sniffed it.
    “When did you get the dago—”
    “Drink it, Seven,” she insisted.
    I grabbed the glass from the service bot and then