Rise the Renegade (Rork Sollix Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

for me. Not you. You’re my partner, not my master, no matter what the registry says.” She sat back down again and sighed. “We’re sticking together, aren’t we?”
    He looked away.
    “We have to stick together!” Buff scampered up her arm, leaving pink marks behind where he laid his claws. He settled in next to her neck, his rear end facing Rork. “Don’t do this to me. I’ve waited. You promised.” Her eyelids puffed up and her eyes turned red.
    “I promised you nothing more than your freedom.” He swiveled around in the chair. The control panel beeped. In the viewscreen, the pockmarked back side of the moon lay in twilight. Beyond it, the blue and tan ball moved to the left. The control panel beeped again, more urgently.
    “Buckle up.” He pulled the dual straps from the back of the chair, put his arms through them and fastened it with a thin click at his waist. He waited for the same click from Lala.
    “What about Buff?”
    He grinned despite the tingling that signaled an oncoming seizure. “Hold tight.” The straps cut into his chest and gut. Good thing we didn’t eat first.
    The ship banked and bucked. The view turned from black to blue. The pressure eased and the ship leveled off.
    She released her restraints. “I really missed it, you know.” She put her hands on Rork’s shoulders and massaged them. Ahead of them, the ocean rolled and pitched. “Do you see what I see?”
    “It’s the Indian Ocean.” He shrugged and arched his neck to look back at her.
    “You weren’t made for revenge. It’s too small for you.”
    He looked away. “Take your seat. We’re going to land.”
    They plunged into the soupy smog at the outskirts of Delhi on a lazy curve to the spaceport. Rork popped his restraints, stood up and grabbed her hand. They walked out of the bridge, the door swooshing out of their way and to the back of the ship.
    His stomach fluttered as the zipship auto-landed. He hit a button on the wall and the large back door unfolded. He studied the tool-packed walls of the cargo bay, then grabbed a rope and a large metal hook that hung next to a cracked helmet.   They stepped out into the muggy Indian morning.
    “Follow the lux markers to Bureau of Immigration with your papers ready,” said a female voice. They stood in a large, round landing dock, its smooth gray walls at least fifteen meters high.
    At Rork’s feet, bright green arrows, each the size of his foot, popped into reality, pointing him to his left. He turned right.
    Lala scurried behind him, her hand in his. “My papers are on our ship.”
    “Mine, too.” They reached the front of the sleek zipship. He stopped. You parked too close to the damned wall.
    “There’s only one way out for each of these pods,” she said.
    Rork secured the rope to the loop at the end of the hook with a bowline knot. He measured the distance again. It was too far. He played out some of the black nylon and dropped the rest in the sand. He held the rope loosely in his left hand and grabbed the cold base of the hook in his right hand.
    “I don’t know how to climb a rope, baby.”
    He grinned. “I do.” He fixed his aim on the top of the wall. He brought the hook down and lobbed it sideways in the narrow space between the rounded bottom of the ship and the only obstacle to their escape.
    Lala crossed her arms and frowned.
    The hook bounced off the top edge of the wall, whistled back down and lodged in the sand at Lala’s feet.
    Her frown intensified.
    He suppressed a laugh. “Relax.” He arched himself back, one foot pointing at the wall, the opposite hand next to his head. He threw it overhand and the flying claw passed over the top of the wall. He pulled tight on the rope and heard a soft clank. He grabbed the rope in both hands and pulled down on it. It went tight, then stretched a little. He raised a victorious eyebrow at her.
    She sniffed.
    Rork pointed to his back with an index finger.
    She shook her head.
    Hard footsteps sounded on