Abyss (Songs of Megiddo) (31 page)

“So do
you
have names?” The midriff-mutilated blonde queried.

“
This is my friend, Myadir, and my name is Janissary.”

“Lorrel
Smith.” The Black woman volunteered, holding out her right hand, which Janissary slowly reached for: pumping her way through an awkward shake. “Your first time?” Janissary nodded.

“We did greetings a little different
ly, back when I lived on Earth.” Janissary explained, before turning her attention to the other two women. Reluctantly, the business-wear sporting blonde sighed:

“
I’m Aviary. Aviary Black.” Neither Aviary nor Janissary made any attempt to shake hands. Janissary merely raised an appraising eyebrow as she scanned the woman in front of her. Barely perceptibly, she nodded.

“Military?” Aviary
scowled.

“Yes...” She said slowly, ending the word with a long, distended, snake-like hiss that rose sharply just before it ended...as if asking the question: ‘and what does
that
have to do with anything?’.

“
Just...funny how you can always tell. A hundred different species; a thousand different worlds, and, somehow, the ones who’ve been trained to fight and kill just...stick out. No matter how hard they try not to.” Aviary’s eyes narrowed.

“Who says I’m trying to hide it?” Janissary smirked, shaking her head.

“For reference? It helps if you don’t try
quite
so hard to look like you aren’t standing to attention.” Janissary’s attention drifted away from Aviary, and towards the last unnamed member of their gathering.

“
I’m Kayla Donohue.” Kayla concluded the roll call. Her eyes cautiously grazed Janissary’s, locking onto them...until Kayla looked downward, towards her feet. She reminded Janissary of someone. Someone lifetimes away and long forgotten. Janissary brushed the recognition to the side, unable to properly place it.

“Good. So...do you want to introduce me to some of your people?” Lorrel nodded, leading Janissary back towards the hill. Aviary and Kayla wordlessly fell in behind them
; trailing silently...a strange wall of ambiguous tension having grown up between the two.

Myadir stayed put...silently observing the unfolding tableau
from a distance. Janissary may not have remembered: Human minds were, after all, prone to a variety of manipulations and deficiencies, as were those of all Ara’ghetn. His own mind – unfortunately – suffered from no such fallibilities.

The past and the present had finally aligned. There was much to prepare.

TBC.

Backmatter

Dedications and Acknowledgements

This thing’s been a long time coming. In the end, a couple of lines just
wasn’t enough for me. None of this would have happened without the combined efforts of all of the following people. So, without further ado...

This is for my loving wife, Victoria.

You really are my very most favourite thing. I love you. Always will.

§

This is for Kat, my best friend.

<3xd8

§

This is for my wonderful friends, and my ever
-supportive family.

I know I’m not always the
easiest person in the world to deal with.

§

And in a weird, roundabout way, this is also for a bunch of dead white guys with stupid hair.

Particularly Sartre. Thanks for
all the existential crisis, you ass.

§

This is for my characters. Each and every. Next time it’ll be easier. Promise.

...
Yeah, yeah. I know. I’m probably lying.

§§§

And finishing with an acknowledgement: fonts used in the original final draft of this novel and in accompanying graphic content were made available by the League of Moveable Type (‘Goudy Bookletter 1911’, ‘Junction’, and ‘League Gothic’), and by font designer Lukasz Dziedzic (‘Lato’) under SIL Open Font Licenses. Not even sure I
have
to credit, here, but I’d like to, as all their all their hard work and generosity is deeply appreciated.

https://www.the
leagueofmoveabletype.com/

http://www.latofonts.com/