CHAPTER 10The Comptroller had lied; Kreutzal could not still be drifting in the great unknown. The problem would not be solved; the enemy would always be waiting, lurking out there among the stars. And even if Kreutzal’s ship could be discovered, what would they find? Jelly smeared on the hull? Something crawling as it whimpered with a mouth shifted to its stomach? Crying with eyes set in its hands?
A skeleton wearing a cheerful grin tapped a bony hand on the metal of the ship. It wore Kalif’s face, his eyes, his smile grown old with time—a cunning smile, as the man was a master of deception. He tapped and tapped—and vanished as Varl sat upright on his bunk, rubbing at his eyes.
He had lain down to ease the renewed throbbing of his temples and must have drifted to sleep. The tapping pers
