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Blood Born
7. Stairway

7. Stairway

The silence filled the small alleyway, holding me in place as I tried to decide whether I would rather someone open the door or not. I waited for what felt like an eternity, then hit the door again until the bones in my fingers ached. I stood then, rubbing my hand and holding my breath, knowing that someone had to be there, that they would open the door to me soon.

My feet began to ache before I finally stepped off of the small ledge at the bottom of the entryway. I pulled my knees up to my chest, trying to quell the numb tingling that took most of my attention as I started back toward the main road. Before I made it out of the alleyway, a voice called out to me.

“I didn’t think you were ever going to give up,” the robotic monotone called out to me.

Baila.

I stopped. I didn’t raise my hands, because I was no longer afraid of her. She had plenty of opportunities to take me out, and she hadn’t pulled the trigger yet. Then again, I didn’t feel safe enough to make any sudden moves toward her, either. Instead, I answered, “I haven’t given up. I just figured there’s no sense in waiting around on your front doorstep when you are bound to stop by mine again.”

I could hear her laughing, so I turned – slowly, carefully. When I got all the way around, I saw the barrel of a familiar metal cannon pointing in my direction. “No offense. I don’t think you are going to do anything, but I’m not really willing to risk it for you.” I held my empty hands out in front of me. She held the sun gun up more firmly toward me. “I would prefer if you didn’t point those things at me.”

I looked at her, my mouth hanging open stupidly as I tried to puzzle what she was talking about. She raised her eyebrows and gestured at my outstretched hands. I looked at my hands, shaky and pale. Scars lined my fingers from years of working wood and metal into playthings. I brought my hands to my side slowly, eyes focused back on Baila and her gun.

“Good. Now, let’s get out of here before someone else starts poking around.” She turned back toward the doorway and entered. I stared for a moment, still not completely sure I was making the right decision, but knew that I didn’t have many options. I followed her through the door and found myself descending a steep set of stairs into total darkness.

It felt like I had been walking down for an eternity when I finally started to see the silhouette of Baila’s body. Past her, I could see an archway that seemed blindingly bright.

“Not too much further, now,” She called back to me. As we made our way down the steps, I began to hear shouting and metallic clanging. I hesitated, but Baila didn’t seem to react so I pushed on. When we reached the landing, the noise coming from the arched entrance was deafening. The sounds of hydraulic arms and drills had joined in with the louder sounds, and I could now see a large warehouse with dozens of men working various machines in an assembly line.

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“Oi, it looks like the Pit Viper snagged another one!” One of the men shouted, not seeming to direct his comment to anyone particular, but definitely talking about Baila.

“Pit Viper?” I looked at her quizically. She didn’t even acknowledge me, or the man. She just kept moving forward, forging a path through the sparks and the machinery. A few of the workers watched us, including the one that had called out, but most seemed too fixated on their work to pay us any attention.

“What are they making here?” I asked her.

“Noise, mostly. If we are lucky, we will get a new ship out of it, or maybe a few suits of armor before the Terrans make their real move. We have half our machines dedicated to shoddy construction material that we sell to the Empire, which helps fund the operation and could come in handy one day if they try to use our ‘pressure rated’ steel on something more important than an outpost.”

We wound our way through the large room and stopped at a metal door with sharp angles that would have looked out of place anywhere else, but made sense in this rigid factory. Baila put a hand on the door – not on the handle, but flat against the door – and stood for a long moment. She closed her eye and seemed to concentrate. Finally, she opened her eyes and smiled.

“Before we go in, you need to understand something.” She waited for me to give her my full attention, then continued. “The men behind this door will kill you without a second thought. They want nothing but the end of the Terran Empire’s reign over our people. If they think that you do not align with that goal, you already know too much to keep alive.” She smiled after saying this, as casual as if she had told me that she was going to have bovii for dinner tonight.

I sucked in a bit of air, then nodded. “So, no chance that I could just slink back up the stairs before they get to meet me, then?”

She shook her head and let out a snort, then pulled a chain from under her clothing around her neck. I expected a key, but on the end was a metal-cast snake’s head, one fang almost black with dried blood. She pushed the tip of her finger against the fang and let out a gasp that sounded like white noise through the helmet. Once a droplet of blood formed on the wound, she wiped it onto the door. My eyes grew wide with amazement as I watched the blood droplet roll across the door and slip into the crack between the door and the wall.

She put her palm back on the door and looked as if she were straining. Sweat began to appear on her brow. Finally, I heard a loud click and Baila let out a loud sigh of relief. She looked at me quickly, as if she was ashamed of the effort it took her to open the door. She reached out for the door, which swung open to reveal a conference room with screens all over the walls displaying various Alturans, Terrans, Avians, and other, stranger creatures that I did not have words to describe. Still astounded by the small blood work that I had just witnessed, my mind was not even attempting to make sense of the other things I was seeing.

There were three men sitting at the table, deep in conversation. Two of them were unfamiliar to me, but the third I recognized. Everyone in Altura would recognize him, I thought.

“Baila, it’s about time you brought us some fresh meat,” An impossibly large man with sharp eyes and sharper teeth snubbed the thick cigar that had been hanging from his mouth into his empty pepperwine mug, never looking directly at either of us. He stood up, making the large room feel suddenly too small for the group that was gathered, closing the file that he had open before him on the table.

“Sadie, huh? I hope you are half the Terran killer that your father was.” High Mage Stravus gave me a wink and then reached his gigantic hand across the table to shake mine.