"Damn you, Stone, I know what I'm doing. Keep your thoughts to yourself."
15
Corriston sat very straight and still in the darkness, his back against cold metal, his eyes on the distant glow of the heating lamp. He could see the lamp through a wide panel opening in the bulkhead directly opposite him. Wherever his eyes fell there was the glimmer of light on metal. But the warmth of the lamp would have left him close to freezing had it not been supplemented by the heating units inside his heavy clothing.
He didn't know how he was going to free himself. His hands were securely handcuffed and the sharp metal was biting into his flesh. Turning and twisting about did him no good at all.
He didn't know how he was going to free himself, but he refused to give up hope. There had to be a way.
You could begin on one of your captors, on a human being with a great deal to lose or gain. You could try to penetrate his armor, sound out his human weaknesses. Or you could set to work on the handcuffs at your wrists, struggling in an almost hopeless attempt to draw your hands through them in some way or get them unlocked without a key.
He decided to try the first way. He raised his voice. "Stone?" he called out. "Can you hear me?"
There ensued a silence. Then Stone's voice came back loud and clear. "Sure, I can hear you. What do you want?"
"I'd like to talk to you," Corriston said.