“The food is under the dirt. But you’ll never taste it,” a gruff voice grumbled from behind him.
Everson raised his hands slowly. “I can pay for it,” he hurriedly assured the unseen assailant. He considered the small fortune stored casually in his satchel, and he finally acknowledged that the DOGs might indeed be omniscient. Everson then decided to brashly press his lack of advantage.
“Unless you’re the type of person who would rather kill an unarmed man,” he said.
“A thief, you mean,” came the retort, and then nothing more but the persistent pressing of the blade.
“Please, sir, I’m starving. I got left behind on Mano after the battle of the Schism…”
“A battle? I haven’t heard of any battle,” the voice growled.
Everson took a slow breath, mindful of the edge of the blade and the e
