Gravity (Dark Anomaly #1) - Marina Simcoe Page 0,75

want to keep them as your personal guard?”

“They have been very effective in that role.”

“Have been.” I made a face. “Until they betrayed you. What if they do it again?”

“The better reason to have them close—easier to keep an eye on them.”

“So, you want them to resume their positions?”

“Yes. Wyck will be their lead now. I’ll announce it tomorrow.” He crawled under the covers of his narrow bed and joined me.

I scooted aside, to give him space, but he drew me closer.

“Are you sure about Wyck?” I thought back to the moment I caught the young errock’s glare after I had shot Crux. Wyck’s bright, yellow eyes were full of undiluted hatred for me. I had no illusions I had made a mortal enemy of him by killing one of his kind.

The better reason to have him close.

“All right. Wyck it is then.” I drew in a deep breath. “Tomorrow will be a long day.”

“Try to get some sleep.” Vrateus kissed my forehead.

The metal frame of his bed cut into my side, and I made a mental note to have the bed from my room moved into his. It was much wider and would be more comfortable for the two of us.

A lot of things still needed to be done, big and small. I remembered how exhausted Vrateus always seemed to be before. Now, I was there, to share the burden and the responsibility of running the Dark Anomaly with him.

And together, we were stronger.

THE WHIPPINGS ALL TOOK place in the mess hall. Vrateus wanted the entire population present to witness the punishments.

He’d ordered the errocks to flog each other. They growled and glared with hatred at those whipping them. That was why Vrateus did it in the first place. By pitting errocks against each other, he ensured they wouldn’t be as quick to unite against him any time soon.

Maybe, his crew learned their lesson while watching the red welts swell on their comrades’ backs after each blow of the whip. Or maybe, they mostly enjoyed another display of violence.

Either way, the punishment had been served.

Afterwards, we all moved to the airlock across from the storage room with the spacesuits. Two of the errocks brought Tunkrox out from his holding cell.

“I did it!” he yelled, kicking his long legs out, lashing with his thin tail, and thrashing in the errocks’ grip. “I drank the wine, ate the mushrooms, and chewed on the flowers... And I’ll do it all again!”

“Do you understand why you’re being executed?” Vrateus asked at the entrance to the airlock.

I recited the charges, finishing with, “Under the law of the Captain of the Dark Anomaly.”

“Captain?” Tunkrox turned to Vrateus with a sly smile. “Fuck you, Captain!” He broke into a series of uncontrollable giggles that turned to loud hiccups after a while. “We don’t need a captain here. We need more wine!”

Vrateus gave the signal to proceed, and the errocks shoved Tunkrox into the airlock, closing the door behind him. The lanky alien swayed on his feet, glancing over his shoulder once. Then the outer door opened, blowing him out into open space.

I watched the chitin on Tunkrox’s body crack and tear as his flesh underneath expanded in the vacuum of space. What was left of him was strewn over the wreckage of the crashed ships. I felt only the slightest tug of sympathy. The predominant feeling was that of relief that with his death there was one less threat to Vrateus and me.

Vrateus’s words from long ago rose in my memory, “Around here, there is no law but mine.”

The Federation had no power on the Dark Anomaly. Intergalactic laws did not exist here. The Federation Forces didn’t matter.

Around here, everything was different.

Apparently, I was now different, too.

Chapter 25

A MONTH LATER, ANOMALY time...

I woke up in my old bed that had been moved to Vrateus’s room, replacing his narrow metal one. The sound of running water told me he must be in the shower.

It had been a month since Vrateus fought Crux and won. Twenty-five years had passed on Earth. Combined with the time I had spent here before that, it had been nearly half a century since I’d left that world. Every day added another ten months to that time.

Chances were that almost everyone I’d ever known as adults was already dead. That thought didn’t feel as crushingly devastating as it had a few weeks ago.

Oddly, knowing that probably no one alive would know about me made me miss life on Earth less. I still dreamed