Wings of Retribution Read Free Page A

and Stuart fell into a subdued silence, their eyes locked on the missing finger.
    It took Athenais a moment to realize that the scarred stub was growing, stretching.  In less than a minute, the finger was whole again.
    Athenais swore and jumped backwards, her seat crashing to the floor in her haste.  All eyes in the bar locked on her.  From behind his glass, Giggles touched the pistol strapped to his hip and gave her a questioning look.  Athenais ignored him and glanced back at Paul’s hand.  The finger was gone again.
    Tearing her eyes up from the stub, Athenais whispered, “You’re a shifter.”
    Paul took a long swig of beer.
    A wash of excitement flooded Athenais’s good sense.  Almost all shifters had died in the last war.  Three million credits were up for grabs for anyone who could provide information that led to a shifter’s extermination, but the prize had not been claimed for more than four hundred years.  By showing her who he was, Paul had put his life into her hands…and potentially a lot of money.
    Athenais picked up her chair and sat back down.  “Thought you were all dead.”
    “There’s still a few of us around.”  Paul spoke Utopian without a hint of an accent, so perfectly that Athenais still couldn’t believe that the man sitting across from her was an alien. 
    “On the colonies?”  Why did she get the idea she knew him from somewhere?
    “Yes.” 
    Athenais leaned back.  “I take it back, shifter.  Coming here, telling me that… You got balls of goddamn titanium.  But then again, you probably don’t have balls, do you?  Come to think of it, how do you guys…you know…?”  She gestured at his crotch.
    “We’re off subject.”
    Athenais frowned at him.  “Why?  You a male or female?  Or are you guys like seahorses and grow your own?  Come to think of it, how do seahorses do it?” 
    Paul narrowed his eyes at her.  “If you’re stalling because you sent a neurogram back to your ship, this conversation is over.”
    Athenais bristled.  “It’s just small talk.  I want to know.”
    The shifter looked stressed and irritated and ready to leave.  The bearded man put a steadying hand on his shoulder, visibly holding him in place.  Paul scoffed and looked disgustedly aside, then forcibly relaxed.  When he failed to enlighten her on either the breeding habits of shifters or seahorses, however, Athenais sighed and said, “So how’d you meet your friends, here?”
    “Common interest.” 
    “Which is?”  She had trouble believing that a shifter wanted to get his hands on the Millennium Potion.  They already had a natural lifespan longer than anything Marceau could concoct with his pharmaceuticals.
    “Downfall of the Utopia.”
    She felt herself grin.  “What a surprise.”
    “Indeed,” Paul said, looking at his mug.  He took a deep swig and set it down again, none too gently.  “But we have better things to do than discuss the past.”  He sounded strained, his words forced.
    Athenais checked her watch.  “I’ve got another ten hours until I need to go find out which half of my crew is sober for cast-off.  As soon as we get underway, I’m looking at several weeks of playing cards and reading old newsbits.  I’d gladly buy you another drink to hear your tale.”
    “That would take all ten hours, plus some,” Paul said.  “Besides, you probably know the story already.” 
    It struck Athenais that he sounded as if he were acting in a play.  His tight, jerky conversation suddenly made the tiny hairs on her neck stand on end and she glanced over her shoulder at Giggles, who was still watching her.
    Steadying herself, Athenais took a long moment to study her drinking companions.  She couldn’t find a hint of Utopian on them anywhere.  They were too rough, too…poor.  Not for the first time, instead of following her gut and ending the conversation, curiosity got the better of her.  “I know the gist,” Athenais admitted, “But how’d