Night Song (The Guild Wars Book 9) by Mark Wandrey (best management books of all time .txt) 📗

displayed a typical Bravo-class dropship preflight checklist. Anything that flew simply fascinated her, but interface craft were the most interesting. She was hoping with the war finally over it would mean resumption of studies, and a trip off world!

Her sister Sonya went by, an earplug in and talking constantly. The two females were close allies—you needed to be when you were outnumbered by boys 3 to 2. Sonya lived for technology, computers and electronics in general. Though they’d been educated by the Porters on base, they’d begun attending advanced classes in town twice a week, just before the Mercenary Guild invaded.

With a swirl of reddish tail, Sonya was out of sight, heading toward the bathroom Ripley shared with her. She knew Sonya wasn’t ignoring her; she was just catching up with news on the city campus. In almost all cases, Sonya followed Ripley’s lead, which was fine with her.

Her slate pinged with an inbound message from Dana, their mom.

“Ripley, we’ve cut a contract to service shuttles to bring in some more credits. I know you’re off duty, but do you want to meet it on the ramp?”

“Do I?” Ripley laughed and quickly used her claws to tap out a reply. “You bet, no problem.” In less than a minute she had a uniform vest, tool belt, and equipment satchel slung over her shoulder and was running out of their quarters toward the ramp.

* * *

Shadow knew he was late. Late by like two days, sure, but things like that happened. He’d been thousands of kilometers away, out past Alice Springs, meeting with an Aboriginal shaman group during their walkabout. He’d spent a day with them, talking and learning.

Like all his previous encounters with the Humans native to Australia, they were more accepting of him as a Zuul—and an alien—than many in the community near their home. On the bush plane back from Alice Springs, he’d spent the hours making notes in his slate and marveling at the seemingly primitive Humans’ spirituality.

He parked his bike in the carpool and got off, making a beeline for a side entrance. He didn’t make it 10 steps.

“Welcome back, Shadow.”

He stopped and hung his head. “Father.”

“I’d appreciate it if you would let me know before you appropriate company funds to go all woop woop.” Shadow looked down even further, his ears folding back in apology. “Can you tell me why you felt it so important to do this?”

“It was a shaman I’ve been trying to meet for a year,” Shadow said, trying to see if his excitement would rub off. “He’s danced in the stars, had a vision of being in space, and I wanted to learn—”

“Wanted to learn how he did it,” Alan Porter finished for him. Shadow gave a single nod. “You can’t keep doing this. Twice during the war, you disappeared. There were occupation forces in Darwin and Melbourne. They could have come here at any time. What do you think they’d do if they caught a Zuul living with Humans?”

“I don’t know,” Shadow admitted. “I was just curious.”

“I get that; I really do. But the answers to whatever questions you have aren’t out there in the desert. Your people are up there, in the stars.”

“I belong here with you, Father.”

Alan gave a slight smile and put out a hand to pat his adopted son on his sloped, furred shoulder. Shadow was smaller than his four siblings. If he were a dog, like he resembled more than anything, he’d be called the runt of the litter. He was also the least physical of them, the least interested in worldly things. He was always fascinated by ghost stories, various religions, and, lately, the faith of the Aboriginals.

“Professor Delridge is going to be here next week. He wasn’t going to stop, but I cashed in a favor.”

Shadow looked up at him, eyes wide. “Fuck me dead!”

Alan laughed and ruffled the fur. “You’ve left your chores undone, and you owe me 125 credits now.”

“But the flight was only 15 credits!”

“I’m including what you already owed with the total.”

“Does that mean I can’t see Delridge?” Shadow’s ears dropped, and his eyes grew huge.

“Don’t be an idiot, boy,” Alan said and took pity on him. “Can you help get the renovations of the cafeteria done by next week?”

“Piece of piss,” Shadow said. “Easy!”

“Then get cleaned up and go to work.”

Shadow grinned, tongue lolling as he trotted out of the motor pool and toward the quarters.

* * *

Sonya outwaited the fog on the bathroom mirror, staring as her reflection resolved in front of her. Her red-brown fur, still drying, lay sleek against her face, the darkness of it making her golden eyes glow. Her ears, larger than her siblings’, twitched until she exerted an effort to hold them still.

Muzzle, long gleaming teeth…she snarled at herself and snapped her head away, unsure what she was even looking for. She couldn’t make herself Human, though she’d asked about that when she was a tiny potato with legs. She couldn’t make the Humans around her into Zuul, even if their smell lingered when they left the room, or—she growled, low in her throat. Nothing she could do would stop the sidelong glances whenever she left the compound.

Everything felt off today, and she grumbled to herself as she got dressed, annoyed as much with herself as the world around her. So some American tourist had shrilled about how cute she was out in town today; what did it matter? She’d heard worse from Humans she thought better of, and it wasn’t the first time seeing her had made someone realize how much they miss their dogs. Most Humans were idiots. She had more important things to occupy her brain.

When she opened the bathroom door, attenuated scents told her Drake was still around, Ripley and their mother had left, and