Chapter Eight
Taking one of my casino shortcuts, I speed walk between the gambling machines and wait to find out which call will come first.
Turns out it’s Royse’s.
“Where did you go?” he asks as soon as I answer. “Are you okay?”
I’m not where I told him I’d be, and he still thinks I might be the one who’s in trouble. I try to comfort myself with a wry observation about how the Optrix gene pool might do better without this one, but the words won’t come together even in my head, as if the joke itself knows it’s not funny.
“I’m fine,” I answer.
“The gold is infested!”
“I know.”
“You didn’t get any on you, did you?”
“No. Do you still have your hazard suit on?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. Listen. It’s the eggs you have to worry about. The larvae just pave the way for them. Most environment suits
