Spears of the Sun (Star Sojourner Book 3) by Jean Kilczer Page B

myself away from him.
    “Oh, Zorga!” Huff cried.
    The oxygen in Type-Earth air is lethal to an Altairian. He screamed as the gas mixture dissipated and his tank went dry. He clutched his chest, then tore at his own throat as oxygen burned his lungs. I turned away, unable to witness the agony of his death throes. When his screams subsided, I opened a mindlink with him.
    There's nothing to fear,
I sent.
The geth state between lives is pleasant, and there's no pain. You will reincarnate somewhere. Maybe not in the Altair system. Use the time to learn about the downside of greed. Practice compassion.
    All I received was anger as his kwaii fled his body. He had a long way to go to achieve enlightenment.
    The only sound was the squawk of a seabird that left its roost and flapped toward the ocean.
    I turned around. Zorga's body lay with blood dripping from his open, still mouth. His eyes were fixed. His throat was ripped by his own claws. The Shayl licked the bony plates of his mouth.
    I went to Zorga and closed his eyes. What a wasted life. The ammonia and methane smell of his body were overpowering and I backed away.
    Chancey shifted his feet. “Would you like to test my resolve, too?” he asked Huff.
    Huff shook his furry head. “But he was my friend.”
    “Take off that mouse beamer and let it drop,” Chancey ordered Huff.
    Huff released the holster on his leg weapon and the small beamer fell to the ground. He stared at Zorga's body with his paws at his snout.
    I picked up the weapon. The charge light was on. It couldn't have fired. I stuffed it inside my jacket pocket and looked at Huff.
    He shrugged his broad shoulders. “It is a thing only meant for destruction.”
    The Shayl, true to his nature, seemed unmoved by his colleague's death. In a swift motion, he turned and leaped into the air, wings spread, and flew low between houses. The wiry tag aimed. “Son of a dragon!” He lowered his rifle. The Shayl turned a corner and was gone. “Too many houses in the way.”
    “Dammit!” I said. “He's going to report back.”
    “It doesn't matter,” Huff told me. “If General Rowdinth wants you, he will know where to find you.”
    “He's that good, huh?” I said. I thought of Rowdinth's security agents, probably planted in Gorestail, as I unstrapped Zorga's holster, strapped it on and sleeved in the stingler. “We have to get rid of the body,” I told Chancey. “Will you help me?” I dragged Zorga's heavy body toward the hovair.
    “Let me help.” Huff looked at Chancey. “Please?”
    He nodded.
    Together Huff and I loaded his friend's body into the vehicle's storage compartment. The ammonia and methane gas had dissipated, but Zorga smelled like bitter root. I have to admit, I felt very little sympathy for the dead Altairian.
    “You want to tell me what the hell's going on here,” Chancey asked me when I wiped my hands on a rag from the compartment.
    “Have you heard of General Rowdinth?” I asked.
    “Everybody's heard of General Ki Rowdinth. You're not from around here, are you?”
    “No, are you?” Come to think of it, he'd arrived just in the nick.
    “I'm a free agent for hire,” he said. “I protect the miners, mostly from each other.” He slung the old rifle over his shoulder and gestured toward a cabin down the dirt road. “I'm renting there. Who are you?”
    His job probably doesn't pay well,
I thought,
with that old projectile rifle.
“Right now I'm also on a job. I owe you, my friend. Can I pay you for your help?”
    “Naw. I make a good cred. A ride into Gorestail would even things up. My damn hovar broke down. It's a holiday and I should be in town keeping an eye on the mining tags. Rough bunch.”
    Huff sat on his haunches and hung his head dejectedly.
    “Go home,” I told him. “Go back to Kresthaven and your people, Huff. You were never meant for this work.”
    “I am too tainted by my own acts,” he said sadly. “It is too late for forgiveness. I would be a pariah to my