Exuviae

Ekaask watched Eido bustle across the street toward Spider's bar. The young Scribe glanced over her shoulder furtively, clutching a mysterious object—a scroll of some kind—to her thorax.

The Kell's daughter was so poor at subterfuge. Ekaask found it endearing.

He wished he could speak to her. Remind her to walk casually. To take a breath. To think of something pleasant and innocuous. But that was not his place.

A rude chitter sounded from underneath the half-assembled Pike nearby. "Ekaask, where's that voltage tester?"

Ekaask started, realizing that he still held the requested equipment in his lower arms.

Klyfiks slid out from beneath the salvaged vehicle and bristled the small hairs near his mandibles—a show of exasperation.

"You're not smart enough to do this with just three eyes," Klyfiks quipped.

Ekaask handed the voltage tester to his tutor. "I apologize. I was distracted."

Klyfiks slyly intuited the cause of the novice engineer's inattention. "Not by anything in the Kell's Ketch, I hope." He gave a series of suggestive clicks.

"Of course not," Ekaask replied, guardedly. "Just the Humans and their soft shells. So gross."

Klyfiks chittered doubtfully. "Put them—or whoever—out of your mind. You have lots to learn before anyone finds you worthy of attention. Even the Humans. Now give me the conduit reamer."

Ekaask wagged his head in agreement. He was a lowly Drekh for now. But he would learn. And molt. And one day, he would be important enough to speak as he desired.

Until then, he would have to content himself with silent devotion, keeping Eido's mysterious secret as his own.