Read Online Ice War by Brian Falkner - Free Book Online Page A

was worth the risk, surely? It might have worked. But things hadn’t gone as planned.
    “They’ll be back to kick your Puke ass,” The Tsar said.
    “They won’t be kicking anyone’s ‘Puke ass’,” Nokz’z said. “They wouldn’t have lasted twenty minutes.”
    Price stared at him, afraid he was right, but willing it not to be true.
    “Pukes, scumbugz,” Nokz’z said, shaking his head. “These are the names we have for each other. Is it not enough that we have to kill each other? Could we not at least be civil about it?”
    “Yeah, that would make all the difference,” Barnard said.
    Price caught Barnard staring at her, although the other girl quickly looked away, with an expression of pity.
Don’t pity me
, Price wanted to scream. Monster was not dead. Neither was Emile. They couldn’t be.
    Price forced herself to remain still, unemotional, fighting the urge to shout and tear herself against the neck restraint. She couldn’t lose him, not now. The last year, stuck at Fort Carson, watching the progress of the war but unable to assist, had seemed like a prison sentence. But it was a prison she had shared with Monster. He had been by her side almost every day in the hospital while she grew the new leg. And he had trained with her every day after that as she had built up her strength.
    But he was gone. And no matter how much she tried to deny it, she knew it was probably true.
    First Hunter, then Chisnall, now Monster and Emile. Emile. Cheeky and quick, both in mind and movement. He hadn’t even had a chance to prove himself. To fight.
    Monster and Emile. Were their deaths her fault? Should she have waited for a better opportunity? Was her decision influenced by the thrill and the heat of the moment, rather than cold logic? It was one thing to seek the adrenaline buzz of living on the edge of death; it was another thing altogether to cause the deaths of people you cared about.
    Nokz’z completed his inspection.
    “So young,” Nokz’z said. “So very young. This is what humans resort to.”
    “Shove it,” Price said, still barely containing her emotions.
    “You try to have a conversation and this is the response,” Nokz’z said to the Vaza. “ ‘Shove it?’ It is like talking to a monkey.”
    “Shove it up your–” The Tsar began.
    Nokz’z cut him off. “Bzadian teenagers of your age are in school,” he said. “They are listening to music, ‘hanging out’ with their friends. I have a child not much younger than you. True, he does his military training, but he is not on the front lines. Especially not in these conditions.” He tutted quietly. “Humans ask too much of their young.”
    Price remained silent. Nokz’z had a gentle, melodic way of speaking. Yet she sensed something else behind the words: something dark and malodorous. Something rotten.
    “Perhaps it is good for you,” Nokz’z said, just as pleasantly. “You are removed from the battle. You are my prisoners and will be treated well. No longer will you have to endure such hardships, or risk death. You will see out the war in comfort.” He stopped, apparently thinking. “Unless the PGZ want you, and I suspect they will. They will want to know all about your Angel program. That might not be very pleasant for you.”
    “We’ll take our chances,” Barnard said.
    Nokz’z turned to the Vaza. “It might be a kindness if I let them follow their friends,” he said with a slight frown. “Out into the blizzard without face masks or thermals. Perhaps that would be preferable to what the PGZ might have in store for them.” He shrugged. “But then I would not be doing my duty.”
    The Vaza looked at Price as though she would be very happy to see Price get tortured at the hands of the PGZ.
    “But then again,” Nokz’z said, “with the end of the war in sight, perhaps it does not really matter. There is little they could tell the PGZ that would be of any consequence.”
    “The war is not over yet, you Puke freakazoid,”