CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Turn and turn and turn again
He showered and changed into fresh clothes, but put his armor back on: ‘This suit goes home with me. To the Salon, I mean.’ He packed his filthy fighting garb into a bag and sent it via Jump to the cargo area in the basement of the Command Complex in Athino. ‘It’s got my tell-tales on it, it’ll end up back in my locker.
‘Blood doesn’t stick much to this ceramic-metal alloy,’ he thought, as he went down the hall to the ‘Most Secure’ room, where he guessed that he’d find their prisoners.
“...not merely propaganda,” Arrenji was saying, as the BWG guard palmed him into the room. She didn’t look back; with her helm on a table beside her, she knew who had entered.
She had not changed clothes. Her gambeson and the clothing under that padded tunic stank of the sweat from a six-mile run. Her dreads lay in disarray about the shoulder plates of her armor. She snarled as she twisted one strand loose from where it had stuck, then shook her head.
“It’s just mostly propaganda.” She stared at the three prisoners, then glared hard at the Captain: “If we can’t find a way to make you harmless, we will kill you.”
The Captain opened his hands wide and asked: “Why not now? Get it done with.”