Marauder Fenrir: Scifi Alien Invasion Romance (Mating Wars) by Aya Morningstar Page B

pastures. Every five or six steps I look up to see the settlements above me. I’d seen old Earth’s blue sky in old movies, but seeing lakes and grass and towns miles above my head is almost as good.
    We reach the fence, and the cows slowly move toward us.
    “What do they want?” Fenrir asks.
    “Food,” I say. “I think so, at least.”
    “It’s inefficient,” Fenrir says. “You have to feed the cow many more calories than you get in return.”
    “Did you like the chocolate?” I ask.
    “Cows produce chocolate?” Fenrir asks, studying the cow.
    “No,” I say, “but chocolate is even more inefficient. Cows produce all kinds of delicious stuff: cheese, milk, yogurt…”
    “You spoke for me,” Fenrir says. “It made me look weak.”
    “When negotiating,” I say, “sometimes you have to bend a little bit so that you don’t break. Do you understand?”
    “No,” Fenrir says.
    “You didn’t tell me there were more assassins. Was that true?”
    “I don’t have to tell you anything,” Fenrir says.
    “Giving up that information to them,” Fiona says, “that was bending. If you had stonewalled them, Lindgren was going to win, and you’d be on an operating table right now.”
    I watch Fenrir’s eyes. They are locked on the cow, and his ears are standing rigid. He’s deep in thought. He reaches through the fence and puts a hand on the cow, right between its eyes. He runs his hand up and down along its face, petting it.
    The cow lets out a low hum, and its tail whips back and forth.
    “When Aegus and Cygnus fled the fleet,” Fenrir says, “my best friend, Zarek, had been suspicious of Aegus ever since we all awoke from hibernation. He told me that we should keep an eye on him, but I found it shameful to be suspicious of such a strong warrior…”
    Fenrir keeps petting the cow as he speaks, refusing to look at me as he tells his story. I can tell he doesn’t really want to tell me this, but feels he has to. I’m not sure why.
    “To suspect a fellow Marauder of treason...it’s unheard of. I was furious with Zarek for forcing me to choose between my best friend and a warrior as respected as Aegus. It put me in a difficult situation: I couldn’t just keep silent, I had to fully back either Zarek or Aegus.”
    “Aegus didn’t know that Zarek suspected him, and I went to Aegus. I told him Zarek was mistaken and suspected him of treason. I urged Aegus to try to forgive Zarek and somehow convince Zarek that there was nothing to fear.”
    Fenrir stops petting the cow and turns to face me. I know that Aegus fled the main fleet, meaning Fenrir was wrong. Not only was he wrong, but he warned Aegus.
    “So you owe all this shame debt,” I say, “because you warned Aegus and helped him commit treason?”
    “Yes,” Fenrir says, “and because when Zarek went to go stop Aegus, I was not there. Cygnus killed Zarek to protect his brother, and then he fled as well.”
    I feel my stomach churn. “So that’s why you have to kill Cygnus?”
    “Yes,” Fenrir says.

    * * *
    W e’re brought to the Sortitiary for the triumvirate’s final decision. The huge room is full of habbers, all curious to see what kind of decision their new leaders have made.
    We are brought to sit in seats in the front row, and we sit–well, I sit, while Fenrir stubbornly insists on standing–across from the triumvirate and ministers.
    “The triumvirate,” Joachim says, standing up with shaking hands, “has decided...after considerable discussion,” he looks back at Miriam and Thorsten with a scowl, “that we will back the Minister of Peace’s plan. Fenrir and Fiona will be sent to the Martian surface, and they will be tasked with convincing Cygnus to meet with us on New Copenhagen.”
    Fenrir looks down at me with a smug grin. Will he really kill Cygnus? And should I do anything to stop him? Or will he come to his senses and stop himself in time?
    The habbers all start muttering, and Joachim quickly continues, silencing