7
THE AIRPORT.
Glaring lights reflected in puddles outside the terminal. Taxis and buses waited for bleary-eyed passengers who streamed out of the building, suitcases in tow like little doggies.
I stumbled out of the car at the drop-off area, the meal and alcohol consumed at Eva’s house heavy in my stomach and my decision heavy on my mind. Did pressure exerted by Amarru justify leaving Nicha? Would Nicha forgive me? Was I doing the right thing? I didn’t know.
As diplomat, I was supposed to have carefully considered answers, but right now, I had none. I longed for a shower and a clean bed. I was a buggered-around runty pig that had missed the feed trough.
One of the guards took my luggage and led the way into the harsh light of the terminal. I fiddled with my comm unit. “Mashara, can I
