Black Hole Heartbeat

Elizabeth - 39

The space station was a long silver tube, dark and narrow, exposed wires sealed to

the wall. They travelled a ways down the inner workings until they reached a small

dock.

"Remember, you two stay out of sight," Elizabeth said told Rusalka and Lavell.

The Shrook was waiting for them. He stood invasively close. Elizabeth and Forr

stepped out and he had to lean back. Elizabeth walked further into the dock, leading

him away so he would not see Rusalka or Lavell still inside. He was well dressed for

a Shrook, wearing a scarlet gown with golden thread. He smiled, baring his honey

toned teeth, thin and sharp as needles. Shorter, meaner Shrook flanked him at either

side holding long, melodramatic axes crossed above his head.

"Ranger Elizabeth," he said, smile growing, "You brought a friend."

"Forr Hort."

"Oh, I know who you are. I'm a big fan of your broadcast. My, my. Your hand?"

He gawped at Forr with ghoulish curiosity.

"You said you had information?" Elizabeth pressed.

"In my office. And I consider myself a civilized gentleman, against the Shrook notion

that names are decadent. You may call me Warden. Now, this way please."

Warden opened his palm to show them down a hallway. His gown draped across the

floor. His footsteps floated.

The passageway had large paintings in ornate frames. Warden seemed to slow in

front of certain canvases to allow Elizabeth to soak up the masterpieces in his

collection. She had no appreciation for the talent. Still a treasure hunter at heart,

what impressed her was rarity. There were three paintings Elizabeth herself had

once searched for. She felt a tickle of respect that Warden had been able to get his

hands on them. But he rushed past them. He had no idea of their value.

Warden stopped in front of a door. His sentinels stood either side. He eased the door

open with his fingertips, then let it close.

"I'm afraid I don't allow firearms into my office. You may surrender your weapons

here."

"My gun's like a part of my arm," Elizabeth said.

"Arms can be amputated," Warden said.

He glanced unkindly at Forr's bionic hand.

Elizabeth nodded and they both handed their weapons over.

"Now we can discuss the matter like civilized people," Warden said.

She entered and sat on a chair at the nearside of an antique desk. The back of the

chair was stiff and uncomfortable. The sort of discomfort the owner would only put

up with having paid an extortionate amount for the chair in the first place.