A Dark and Hungry God Arises by Stephen R. Donaldson Page B
Authors: Stephen R. Donaldson
Tags: Fiction, General, Science-Fiction, Hyland; Morn (Fictitious character), Thermopyle; Angus (Fictitious character), Succorso; Nick (Fictitious character), Hyland; Morn (Fictitious character) - Fiction, Succorso; Nick (Fictitious character) - Fiction, Thermopyle; Angus (Fictitious character) - Fiction, Taverner; Milos (Fictitious character), Taverner; Milos (Fictitious character) - Fiction
some of it if you give me Davies.
But the words died inside him as the door swept open, and a woman with a slight stiffness in her stride came into the strongroom.
'Captain Nick, ' said the Bill with his usual incongruous eagerness, 'do you know Sorus Chatelaine? She tells me you haven't met, but you may recognize her by reputation. It was her ship' - his grin was obscene - 'that salvaged your "property". '
The light seemed to contract around Nick. The woman was all he could see as she approached. Baffled by surprise and old terror, he stared and stared at her while she greeted the Bill, then shifted her stance to study him with an air of detached amusement. The stiffness in her limbs suggested that she disliked even the rock's lesser g.
'As it turns out, ' she said in a low, vibrant tone, 'I was wrong. Captain Succorso and I have met after all. He was using another name at the time, as I recall. That's why I didn't make the connection. '
Sorus Chatelaine, the Captain of Soar. He hadn't made the connection, either, of course he hadn't, like her ship she'd had another name then. And she was much older now. Lines and tired skin marred the structural handsomeness of her face; the light made the gray in her hair look white. Yet he recognized her instantly, absolutely, as if she'd stepped out of a recurring nightmare.
She was the woman who'd put the scars on his cheeks, the wounds on his soul.
'I see the surprise is mutual, ' she added archly, as if he were still only a helpless boy in front of her.
Fear and rage knotted his muscles, twisted his face. An instinct for survival stretched as thin as thread was all that kept him from hurling himself at her throat.
With a confident smile, she dismissed him and returned her attention to the Bill. 'You've been busy. ' Her voice still had the contralto richness which had once wrung Nick's heart when she made love to him; when she laughed at him. 'You may not have had time to pick up the latest bulletins. I wanted to discuss them with you - and Captain Succorso may have something to contribute.' She was laughing at Nick again, secretly but unmistakably.
He couldn't stop staring at her. His muscles were so tight with strain that he could hardly breathe.
'Your timing is unfortunate,' the Bill chided cheerfully.
'Captain Nick was about to make what I'm sure is a most unusual offer. However, that can wait for a moment.' He looked at his readouts. Which bulletin did you wish to discuss?'
'Operations,' Captain Chatelaine replied promptly,
'has just had contact from what appears to be a UMCP
ship. A Needle-class gap scout, presumably unarmed - if her id is honest. She calls herself Trumpet. She's about eighteen hours out, and requesting permission to approach.
'According to her first transmission, she has two men aboard.' Sorus paused for effect, then said, 'Angus Thermopyle and Milos Taverner.
They claim they stole her.'
Nick seemed to feel the air being sucked out of the room. Nailed where he stood by contracting light and too much stress, he feared for a moment that he was going to pass out.
NICK
Torn between spotlights and murder, anoxia and fear, he reeled internally. He seemed to experience the crash of lightning, the blaze of thunder, but they were all inside his head; secret; unreal. She'd left him with tears of humiliation and ruin streaming through the blood on his cheeks, and now his scars burned like streaks of acid under his eyes. If he could have drawn breath, he might have moaned.
Caught and fixed by the light, Nick Succorso went a little crazy.
Before he broke, however - before he killed himself by trying to kill Sorus - a name came to him like a spar to the hand of a drowning man. Milos. He clutched at it, clung to it, recited it. Milos Taverner. It was rescue and hope and a kind of madness inextricably tangled together, but it was all he had.
Milos Taverner was coming to Billingate.
Slowly the pressure in his chest eased, and he began to breathe again. The
But the words died inside him as the door swept open, and a woman with a slight stiffness in her stride came into the strongroom.
'Captain Nick, ' said the Bill with his usual incongruous eagerness, 'do you know Sorus Chatelaine? She tells me you haven't met, but you may recognize her by reputation. It was her ship' - his grin was obscene - 'that salvaged your "property". '
The light seemed to contract around Nick. The woman was all he could see as she approached. Baffled by surprise and old terror, he stared and stared at her while she greeted the Bill, then shifted her stance to study him with an air of detached amusement. The stiffness in her limbs suggested that she disliked even the rock's lesser g.
'As it turns out, ' she said in a low, vibrant tone, 'I was wrong. Captain Succorso and I have met after all. He was using another name at the time, as I recall. That's why I didn't make the connection. '
Sorus Chatelaine, the Captain of Soar. He hadn't made the connection, either, of course he hadn't, like her ship she'd had another name then. And she was much older now. Lines and tired skin marred the structural handsomeness of her face; the light made the gray in her hair look white. Yet he recognized her instantly, absolutely, as if she'd stepped out of a recurring nightmare.
She was the woman who'd put the scars on his cheeks, the wounds on his soul.
'I see the surprise is mutual, ' she added archly, as if he were still only a helpless boy in front of her.
Fear and rage knotted his muscles, twisted his face. An instinct for survival stretched as thin as thread was all that kept him from hurling himself at her throat.
With a confident smile, she dismissed him and returned her attention to the Bill. 'You've been busy. ' Her voice still had the contralto richness which had once wrung Nick's heart when she made love to him; when she laughed at him. 'You may not have had time to pick up the latest bulletins. I wanted to discuss them with you - and Captain Succorso may have something to contribute.' She was laughing at Nick again, secretly but unmistakably.
He couldn't stop staring at her. His muscles were so tight with strain that he could hardly breathe.
'Your timing is unfortunate,' the Bill chided cheerfully.
'Captain Nick was about to make what I'm sure is a most unusual offer. However, that can wait for a moment.' He looked at his readouts. Which bulletin did you wish to discuss?'
'Operations,' Captain Chatelaine replied promptly,
'has just had contact from what appears to be a UMCP
ship. A Needle-class gap scout, presumably unarmed - if her id is honest. She calls herself Trumpet. She's about eighteen hours out, and requesting permission to approach.
'According to her first transmission, she has two men aboard.' Sorus paused for effect, then said, 'Angus Thermopyle and Milos Taverner.
They claim they stole her.'
Nick seemed to feel the air being sucked out of the room. Nailed where he stood by contracting light and too much stress, he feared for a moment that he was going to pass out.
NICK
Torn between spotlights and murder, anoxia and fear, he reeled internally. He seemed to experience the crash of lightning, the blaze of thunder, but they were all inside his head; secret; unreal. She'd left him with tears of humiliation and ruin streaming through the blood on his cheeks, and now his scars burned like streaks of acid under his eyes. If he could have drawn breath, he might have moaned.
Caught and fixed by the light, Nick Succorso went a little crazy.
Before he broke, however - before he killed himself by trying to kill Sorus - a name came to him like a spar to the hand of a drowning man. Milos. He clutched at it, clung to it, recited it. Milos Taverner. It was rescue and hope and a kind of madness inextricably tangled together, but it was all he had.
Milos Taverner was coming to Billingate.
Slowly the pressure in his chest eased, and he began to breathe again. The