Deathwalker 3.1

             As the door field reformed, the luxurious seat adjusted, conforming to my body and exerting exactly the right amount of pressure in all the right places. It was both extremely comfortable and slightly disturbing. The fact that I could probably buy the Whisp a total overhaul for the cost of one seat was even more disturbing  – make that nerve-wracking. Subtly, I counted the seats. There were four. Whatever this man was, he was not an average deathwalker.
            I sat and pondered in silence as he drove. He didn’t seem inclined to start a conversation. And his demeanor certainly didn’t invite one. A string of unanswered questions paraded through my mind. One by one, I dismissed them, deciding that the safest course for the moment was to keep my mouth shut and pay attention.
            Paying attention was not particularly difficult. While the Kaihmi were not especially poor, we spent our money on more practical items, not opulent toys like floats. Since stealing was taboo (including “borrowing” without permission), I had never had the opportunity to zip through a city at high speed. Space, yes, but space ships weren’t made to maneuver in tight spaces. This float was sleek and stream-lined. It whipped around corners and through tiny openings, blurring the passing buildings in a way that was exhilarating to say the least. I couldn’t help but wish that I was riding with my cousins so that I could yell and whoop with the pleasure of the movement. Instead, I had to sit perfectly still and silent.
            Well, not perfectly still. I was still a little too jittery from the accusations earlier to be that calm. My right knee jiggled up and down constantly. When I noticed and forced it still, my fingers beat erratic patterns on my side. I glanced at Dryst out of the corner of my eye. Had he noticed? He didn’t seem to be paying me any attention. I heaved a silent sigh and relaxed slightly.
            The sudden growl of my stomach echoed in the quiet float. Wincing, I risked another glance. His eyebrows were up again. But he said nothing. Was he even human? My leg began to bounce again. So did my fingers.
            “Excuse me, sir,” I blurted, unable to contain myself any longer. “But who are you exactly?”
            He executed a tight turn so fast that the force pressed me against the fancy seat.
            “It’s a little late to ask,” he replied dryly in the sudden dark of a narrow tunnel. “We’re here.”

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