The Moon's Shadow Read Free

struggled to suppress his memories of what he had endured from the intelligence officers in ESComm, Eubian Space Command. He hoped the bastards rotted in hell. They could have questioned him without savagery. Humane methods existed, but they had chosen otherwise.
    He had expected even worse from Corbal Xir, a Highton lord high in the Aristo caste system. Corbal could have done whatever he wanted to Eldrin, yet he had held back. Had Eldrin been more gullible, he might have believed Corbal was showing compassion. But it was impossible.
    Rain continued to soak his clothes. His feet had become so cold he could barely feel his toes. Muscle tremors shook his body.
    “Please,” Mik coaxed. “We can help you.” For some reason he looked upset. “Let us help.”
    “Liar.” Eldrin’s voice rasped. So cold. He was so cold.
    “No one will touch you without your consent.” Mik stepped away, toward the purported Allied Embassy. “You have my word.”
    Eldrin didn’t want to go with him. He had to resist. But he couldn’t keep the image of steaming soup out of his mind. Almost against his will, he moved toward the embassy.
    Mik gave him an encouraging smile. He continued to walk, looking back at Eldrin, his expression offering unspoken assurances. So Eldrin limped after him. A drop of rain coalesced in his eye and ran down his face. It had to be rain, not a tear. He refused to weep.
    Mik led him around the side of the supposed Allied Embassy. But when they reached a recessed entrance, Eldrin froze. A soldier in fatigues guarded the door, a burly man standing ramrod straight with a laser carbine gripped in both hands.
    “No.” Eldrin despised the edge of panic in his voice. He jerked back and stumbled on the slick flagstones. Unable to regain his balance, he dropped to one knee. Agony flared through his leg, and he bit the inside of his mouth to keep from groaning.
    Mik was blathering, some gibberish in that damnable soothing voice of his. Eldrin bent his head and shut out the words. He willed his body to be impervious, trying to believe it would work today, unlike all the other days. Even knowing they would soon pull him to his feet and take him away, he couldn’t give in, couldn’t let them see him weaken.
    After a time, his mind began to clear. Focusing outward, he saw Mik a few feet away, also kneeling, his forehead creased with concern. Behind Mik, the soldier was still by the column, but he had lowered his gun and taken a less threatening stance. He looked troubled rather than implacable.
    “Are you all right?” Mik asked.
    Eldrin said nothing. He rose slowly, his battered muscles protesting the effort. Mik also stood, looking solicitous. The kid could have won an acting award. If he was a kid. For all Eldrin knew, the Traders had biosculpted one of their special operations officers to pass as an Earth boy.
    Mik indicated the soldier. “Lieutenant Parkins won’t hurt you. No one will.” He spoke carefully. “We understand what you are.”
    “And what is that?” Eldrin could barely speak, his throat hurt so much. “Scum, according to your Aristo owners?”
    “I’m not a Trader. I swear it to you. I’m an Earth citizen. You’re on Allied territory.” Awkward now, Mik added, “You’re no longer a provider.”
    Eldrin sneered at him. “A provider? How could you know? I never told you.”
    “Your collar.” An unstated horror lurked in Mik’s gaze. “Only a provider would have one made from diamonds.”
    Eldrin would have touched the collar around his neck if his hands had been free. An Allied citizen might have guessed that he was a provider from his rich garb and restraints. More likely, “Mik” already knew. Although Eldrin couldn’t pick up anything from the youth’s thoughts, that meant nothing. Eldrin’s mind was bruised. While interrogating him, his tormentors had transcended, and the anti-empathic link they had forced on him, using his pain for their pleasure, had wounded his mind.
    Yet he